YOU ARE NOT
Ha! You thought you were so righteous for loving me
as if loving was something I didn't deserve and you
with your good heart and mercy decided that you from
your high heavens would bestow upon me a kindness
that, okay, maybe I wanted. Maybe I decided in the dim
light coming in from the windows, bathing my bedroom
with more shadows than light, that maybe, okay, maybe
I wouldn't have to talk to the voices in my head or wrestle
with non-sleep. And I liked the sound of your voice, how
it gets hoarser and hoarser as we navigated night after
night through the wires. I thought you were having fun.
You sounded like you were having a grand time. And
what did you want me to do? Worship at your feet?
Thank you for saving me, for making me less lonely
in the uneventful half-life of this city? You knew what
this was, I am not your dilettante. You are not a god.