Cracked Statue

broken tiles


I. could. not. move. despite. my. best. efforts.
And so I lost control.
It was familiarity.
His environment engulfed me,
swallowed me whole.
Suddenly I inhaled the
air – no longer oxygen,
but him,
filling up my lungs,
filling an unknown hunger,
flooding my insides-
anything but him.
My eyes frantically scanning
for an escape,
an emergency exit.
His hands journey up
from my quivering thigh
caressing me with gentle aggression.
I am paralyzed
by choice and by fear.
Don’t make eye contact,
look away,
Scanning, scanning, scanning.
The hands are around my neck
up now cradling my flushed cheeks.
Inhale. Gasps.
Drowning in the intoxication.
Softly he turns my head,
our eyes meeting,
I plead with him,
begging for help.
He pulls my face toward his.
I push – he pulls.
“I can’t” squeaks out of me.
His arms still wrapping around
the statue of my body.
Another inhale, deeper.
“Trust me,” his voice booms,
and I do.
Muscles relax, submitting
unsure of the outcome.
He tilts my face down slightly.
Eyes closed tightly,
terrified and excited
I feel warmth spread
through my body –
his lips press against my forehead
a new wave crashes me
into him as he holds me,
supporting my head by the
back of my neck and stroking my
cheek with the other
moving the hair out of my still
closed eye.
His kiss renews my fright,
yet silences my inner screams.
“How is this possible?”
My eyes ask finally opening,
“You are okay,”
his embrace replies.
Melting into his body
I hear him.
“I don’t want to hurt you,”
his breath whispers.
Deja vu, but new.
This confliction between
now and then hangs in the air,
But not between us –
around us.
I fight the gravity of his
broad chest lifting my face
up to mirror his.
He has released me from
the grip of his arms,
yet I feel the weight still
pressing against my body.
Words cannot form as if
I have been given the air
again, but no longer want
oxygen –
I just want
His hand dances down my arm
gracefully poisoning my skin
with desire, lust, dependency –
everything, I fought to detox years ago
is now attacking me from the outside in.
He is safety and danger,
comfort and risk,
history and future,
problem and solution,
infection and anecdote.
The darkness of his eyes
captures my light blues,
“What are you thinking about right now?”
Directness, my kryptonite.
“Too much, m-mixture of emotions…”
my mouth moves.
Those soft lips of his curl up
at the edges, “I love lists.”
Exhale. Coy eye roll.
His banter is irresistible –
how did I forget?
“Confused, happy, comforted, excited, surprised…
Connection – his hand stroking my thigh.
Not sexually,
but intimately.
I am caught off guard.
The man of my
past has caught up so fast
and I am lost.
It’s been years and years –
how could you still be holding
onto me when you weren’t
even there when I need a life line?
So much has happened –
Why are you so ready
to be there when before
you were no where?
The chord of your lifeline
is twisting my limbs
tightening around me.
Is this the way you will
“be here” for me now?
You claim you won’t hurt
me, yet you cannot bring
yourself to rescue me
from the suffocation
are causing.
You let go when I need
your steadiness.
You grip me when I need
my independence.
You communicate when I need
You drop off when I need
If timing is everything,
you are nothing.
A man of such high potential
who can’t figure me out,
or worse –
You could be my world,
but I couldn’t deal with
your fair weatherness.
I can’t deny the
but my soul cannot
take another beating.
Not by you,
by your power.
I will break in places
and in ways I cannot
heal from.
I am begging you,
don’t break me


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