Can we surrender
Into your arms?
They seem so sturdy
And yet, I hesitate.
I’m still bruised from the last fall,
When I fell and kept falling, no one catching me , no one to break the fall
My body as it plunged towards the wooden floor,
Followed by quick successions of a series of thuds
And how you giggled with a sadistic satisfaction at such sounds,
Music to your ears
Oh how even now, the bruises remain
And I’ve been left with some kind of Stockholm syndrome ,
Craving your terrible bedside manner.
When a lull enters a space beside me
I look for your lies to coat me
Just the one coat even, a light colour of false optimism
It doesn’t even have to be a very good one
I just want a temporary fix
To colour in the holes and gloss over the bruises
All in an effort to pretend, pretend
That I’m whole
You’ve been always good with make-believe,
That I can rely on
So bring your game here, please