Your love is the dagger I keep in me

In it’s sweet pain piercing through me 

     My heart. 

                 My gut.  

          My limbs. 

My body. 

And I bleed. Ever so slightly now. 

Drip. 

        Drip. 

                Drip. 

The blood, it clots. 

I try taking it out. The unbearable pain of my flesh tearing. 

Why to feel this excruciating pain when I can keep the sweet pain of “almost”? 

    My almost love story. 

My almost lover. 

                     My almost forever. 

                                                   My almost home. 

I scatter. 

            And look up to you in prayer. 

The pain now a vine wrapping me like your hands should have. 

The pain is comfort. The pain is the air I breathe. 

The dagger in me is shaped like you. 

                                  the dagger no longer turns. It sits there; a throbbing pain.

I find no end to this. I have to. Or do I?