I'm screaming but she doesn't stop.
She can hear me but she doesn't stop.
She can feel me but she doesn't stop.
She knows what she's doing.
But she doesn't fucking stop.
She digs her nails into the bruises that paint her thighs
until her eyes glaze with blood.
Reaching for a towel she looks towards me and her eyes,
as empty as they are
My question means nothing.
She's lost herself.
My hands feel hers, but I can't move.
I can't feel my legs.
I can't look anywhere but at her.
Soon I'm hovering over the emaciated body of someone who I no longer recognize.
My knees painfully unlock and I get closer to her.
I can count the freckles scattered across her hallowed face.
I place my hand on the back of her head and go to speak,
to whisper sweet things and tell her everything is okay.
But it isn't.
It won't be for a long time.
All I can do is sit here with her in the silence and wait for it to pass.
She needs to know I'm here.
She needs to know I'll always be here.
I watch her mouth open slightly,
her eyes soon follow.
Bloodshot and defeated,
they still had me.