i never promise you impossibilities
i won't say, "i'll never hurt you"
but you do
and the bruises from your words
turn brown, like muddy pondwater
seeping in my soft flesh.

our separation broke you down

last night i dreamed you appeared, trembling -
frightened by our touching.
rationality gone, wandering, calling,
(where was your composure, your planning -
didn't you fear i'd see beneath that shell at last,
at last see you're really crawling?)
and I stopped
held you,
told you (what you wanted to hear)
the only words that would save us both.
"I am afraid."

I woke comforted,
yet knowing,
It isn't reality.

I laugh, because in dreams, I'm the one who must be trusted.
truth is, in dreams,
you're vulnerable
and I'm afraid.

truth is,
I'm afraid.
But you know that - you don't need to ask.
And I'll still hold you.
Trust or no -
what of that?