Followed

Clinging with dirty nails
To the bottom of the pit,
I'm haunted still by last Christmas
When the fire burned,
For the first time in eight years.

We clung to those memories
For many long months, as comfort
Took hold and swallowed us whole
Leaving our misdirected shadows,
Reflecting back at us.

I think of you still,
Despite your unwarranted
Anger and all the contempt
That struck my rib cage like lightning,
Unfair and unexpected.

My feet still sore from balancing
Amongst broken egg shells,
Trying to appease you
Giving you all my strength, draining
My own wrists for your gluttony.

I wouldn't have accepted that
For anyone else, anyone lesser.
Now I lay here, curled and blank
Conceding that I would welcome
It.

Should It ever return.