Our crashes did not coincide.
No,
one fell,
and while you rose
I have tumbled far.

I'm at my worst,
trapped here,
trying to claw my way out
without damaging you.
I'm trying not to be
pathetic and needy
and someone you should run far away from.

But how can I?
When I am rewarded for crisis?
I lost your attention,
any sense of your affection,
but now as I spiral ever downwards
there you stand,
confused,
at the edge.

I can keep you there,
throwing just enough clues
that I am helping you
through my pain.
I show just enough distress
over your ignorance
that you will fall over your feet
in a rush to fix it.

Why should I let you?
Why?
When you disappear
even the two of us are well.
Now I have power.

The rational side,
the side of me that takes each wound
with grace
and the growth of what makes it Beautiful,
wishes to share
in calm tones
how this isn't all related to you.
How I feel a failure with or without papers due.
How I feel worthless with or without
neglect.
The good side
offered you tea,
a shoulder or meal,
never thinking of the return,
only your improved state
as you blankly accepted
as all your focus was on crushing deadlines.

The screaming part of me,
that clutches each wound as if it were mortal,
allowing the stinging pain to radiate through,
does not Love.
It counts the debt
and longs to lash out
that you aren't taking random stabs at comfort
as I did,
I who only pretend to know what to do
when friends are distressed.

As the conflict grows,
reason is strangled into silence
and the claws turned inward.

Maybe I should just cut you loose.
Why should I tie you close
when I fully expect
that any day now
I shall tumble from a cliff,
a bloodied mess of thorns
and melted, waxen wings.