I don’t know when it started, perhaps for the beginnnig having our fates arranged to meet was an imperfect idea, our spiritual selves refused to mold itself around responsibility, although the children we had are testament to the rewards that lay behind every sacrifice.
I did my best to provide and to ensure you had little to no reason to be unhappy, and there was a point when I felt your body tamed like a quiet ocean, with touch it was electricized into lifts and folds and a flow began to form around tedious bits of stone.
You were seeking for something great and terible, wanted to be destroyed and reinvented by force and while I bled only in the dark, to have found this creature and its eagerness to be erased, I could not be that aggresor you wanted, and you trusted me with nothing, thoughts slipped into paper and a blank page as confidante, I saw the lines and lines swayed by a fickle hand. They pressed onto one another, stretched loose but played solid guardians to secrets safely kept from our reality.
Before night or sleep even striked we were already separate, I held your hand and felt infected by your aloneness, this strange need to be sealed into yourself. I had no words to unspool your armor, with and around you I felt a solitude so magnificent it simply removed me from my self, left me cold and loveless.
It feeds on those who have chosen to stand by you, each day is a monumental surrender and I observe our children wilting as they grow, to recognize a darkness that was inherited, and now blossoms and flourishes inside them.
Let the earth pull you into its roots and beauty, leave your poems behind and it’ll be a key I will leave untouched, until the day I am willing to feel closer to you again, to brave a winter that lasts forever or until I too fall prey to our maker.