Nobody's Gonna Hurt You
The blades of the fan play a rhythmic melody I don’t want to hear.
The moonlight catches the silver shimmer of my rings.
My own shaky breathing plays like a bass to the tune I’ve become familiar with.
The hum of my thoughts.
The chorus of my sternum.
The song of the cold air, engulfing my skin in a cool, still black hole.
My hair flies up as my body flies down.
I fall.
For hours and hours.
Until the depth of my soul meets the depth of my mind.
I can feel the churning of my stomach, the throb behind my eyes and the tremor in my hands.
I try to stand but I’m falling.
I try to sit but I’m falling.
I try to open my eyes but I’m falling.
I step forward and my hand clutches the wall for support.
The stars in the hole sparkle as my eyes pool.
I can’t tell if I’ll pass out or if I’ll cry until I do.
I take a deep breath to find balance but my knees buckle.
The soft carpet welcomes the thud of my bones, a stark contrast to the routine in my head.
I claw at my throat.
I sob into my hands.
I stare at the ceiling until the moonlight illuminates my tears.
I look in the mirror.
The arch of my brow, the shape of my eyes, and the curve of my lips.
I am your reflection.
And I will be nothing but.
The song plays a constant loop.
The blades of the fan, the light of the moon and the helpless whines of my throat. But all I can hear is his voice.
Nobody’s gonna hurt you.
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