AKIMBO

How did I say that I could love you when I couldn't love myself?
How did I boast that I could give my life for you when I had barely been tested by the waters?
If I couldn't give and give until I had nothing left, how did I invite you into my ship and promise to be committed to you?

I have failed you, my love. I wish I could save you, but my insides are quaking. I can barely hold myself together — how can I hold you?

Pain fuels my writing; I hate that it does.
This pain I feel fuels this piece.

I want to do right by you,
to give you everything you need.
I want to be responsible, even more than that if necessary.
But as the days go by, my options grow fewer, my discipline falters, and I wonder how long I can hold on.

I will do the irrational, but I promise — I will do it without you, my love.