Picking up the pieces

It's 3am. I am still not ready to answer the calls of my pillow as it yearns for my head lie upon it. I am still not ready for the darkness that would welcome me. I am still not ready for what will come after I close my eyes.

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Cracks upon the walls

Cracks upon the windows

Cracks upon the paintings

Cracks upon the memories.

You came to me when I was not myself

You held me when I was unable to feel

You heard me when I was unable to speak

You saw me when I could not see myself.

Why was I too focused

Why was I too absorbed

Why was I too blinded

To see that there were more to be.

I saw that tear when you didn't see

I heard that cry when you didn't speak

I felt that pain when you didn't show

I stood by drowned in myself

You walked away

I moved forward

You turned away

I reached for you.

Deep down the pain grew

Deep down love fought.

As we moved

I picked up the pieces

As we moved

I put the pieces together

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I still hang on as things have been hard. I believe that we are made for each other. Life get's hard sometimes but then we get through it together. We've been through this before.