love me like my demons do
My face pressed into the mattress, I try to be smaller, smaller. My mouth is so dry and I clench my jaw involuntarily. My gums are numb. 6 lines of cocaine. You remind me this is why I can't sleep. "I hate talking to you like this," you say. "Like you are a child." "But I'm worried about you, you aren't acting like yourself. I like the girl I know. I like you when you are sober." I ramble on about hating myself, being bad, being a mimic, being dangerous and drawn to chaos, and destined for the darkness. You pull me towards you, so we lay in the semi-glow of early morning facing each other: "Stop. You're high, this isn't you. I forgive you. I want to be with you. I want you to realize you can trust me, when you feel out of control, you can tell me. You don't have to always be in control. I know you aren't used to it, to letting someone take care of you, but I can. Let me hold you, let me be in control now. " "It ca