You drape over me

and I am a kid in a pillow fort again,

the pillows and blankets muffling the world.

I would suffocate after a couple minutes,

crawling out from under the weight

to find where my sister ran off to.

 

I can’t crawl from you.

I can’t find my sister anymore because you cover

her too.

Your weight oppresses me in ways none can see,

drawing the ambition that filled my young body

into your own darkness,

consuming every part of me that I used to love.

 

I loathe you. I despise you.

I also don’t know who I am without you,

your ideal consistency.

Your crushing hugs and caressing hands

hold my body together.

I’ve learned to work with you,

adapt to you, live with you.

Who would I be if you left?

 

Thank you for holding me when no one else did.

Thank you for staying when everyone else left.

Fuck you for finding me in the first place,

I was just a kid.