mess up my bed with me

I look at you from my end of the living room. I am angry. I am fuming. I don't know why. It finally caught up with me. No stress reliever is strong enough or fast enough. There's no going back now. I am here. I know what I need.

You look up from your report. You know the look in my eyes. You set your papers aside and motion for me to come over. My eyes tear up. My body is flustering. My legs somehow hold me up long enough to get me next to you. I collapse in your arms. You lock me in.

When did my life get so complicated? You told you wouldn't let me come back to this place. Why is this happening? Why me? Why again?

I look up at your caring eyes. Pools of chocolate faith. How could you love me in this state I'm in?

The shaking eventually dies down. My body gives off heat.

I give you a faint smile. I can barely keep my eyes open.

You carry me back to my bed and call in the nurse to insert the I.V. needle. You plant a kiss on my forehead. A kiss that I'm sure burned your perfect lips.

"You don't deserve to be living like this," I say as I take dreadfully long blinks.
"It will all be over soon," you reply and at that moment the morphine kicked in.

You went back to your corner and recited prayers for me. I did the same in my dream.

I pray for you, more than myself.