The Pact

I swore on a stack of my own bibles
that I would never again let you feel
such cold. Forever you slept, nestled in
steel twigs and angry thistles. I never
let them through, the soothing words that one by
one could pull apart protective shells and
expose you. When he came I was ready.
I thought I had strengthened my weaknesses.

The hairline cracks, friendship, spread like poison
ivy. But when we lay in the dark his voice
chipped like a sledgehammer at the silence.
I wanted to drown in the words he set
before me like jewels but you wailed as
the sunlight burned your blind eyes. I failed you.

-MF