Rule #1

Written December 10, 2011

“Say it,” I demand,
needing you to acknowledge
my reality.

You falter, you waver,
struck by my intensity.
Can you feign ignorance
long enough to avoid
voicing the unthinkable?

Well, shit, I’m nearly
yelling at you,
forcing you to make
this concrete between us.

Rule #1: That I don’t do it.

Yes, I know what you mean,
but I can’t have these words
be a Voldemort to you.

You need to say…

“That you don’t—
hurt yourself!“
you choke out.

Your glistening eyes
behind Lacoste glasses
evade mine…

Your exterior betrays you,
and your pain penetrates me:
You care.
You care so much it hurts.

And so my strength rallies
in a fight against the other in me,
because I can’t break you
and do the forbidden.