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 can't be that easy. "

"It is."

Oh God, how I want it to be. But I think I might love you and I think I am so terrified of every inevitable ending I imagine for us that I am starting fires so at least I can say I was the one to burn us to the ground.

An emotional arsonist. 

But I will douse the flames this time and I swear I will try to remember your words.

I will repeat them like a prayer. A blessing. An incantation.