My love—
the moment I fell
into the abysmal agony of the labyrinth,
it was my own soul
that pulled me
from the horrors
woven deep within.
My love—
the moment I pierced my skin
out of fear,
out of the restless pits
of self-desecration,
it was my own mechanism
that threw the blade away
and kept the skin intact.
My love—
the moment I wailed
into the hollow night,
it was my own lullaby
that wrapped around me
and sang me to sleep.
My love—
the moment I couldn’t escape
the torture of demons
nestled in my slumber,
it was my own arms
that woke me gently,
and spooned me back
into serenity.
My love—
the moment I tried to flee
the horrendous asylum
of this life,
it was my own voice
that whispered
through the chaos
and rendered me calm.
And you,
who is my love—
the moment you are not there,
I am.
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