Laying down, I close my eyes
Just to have them fly open again.
Images, memories, and thoughts flood my vision
and I lay curled up, ready to cry.
I don't cry, for it is a childish thing to do,
but I lay and break down and come close to.
The tears are present on my face,
but not from crying, exactly.
They are involuntary,
and more from the pain I inflict on myself.
I remain quiet
and thank the God I don't believe in
for you being a heavy sleeper.
I turn on my side, putting my back to you
and wrap my arms around my stomach.
I break down like this often,
and they get worse and worse,
following my trends of life.
You don't know I do this,
because I don't do it in public.
I'm a public figure
and have to set an example
for the public
and my brother.
I can't act like a child,
I need to be an adult.
I reach for the knife in my pillow,
but cannot find it.
My left arm is full of scars,
and I know you've seen them,
I just never thought you'd paid any attention.
I jumps as I feel your hand on my shoulder,
and your soft voice in my ear.
"Are you looking for something?"
I feel myself calm instantly,
and I go blank,
as is my reaction in public.
Emotions are a weakness I don't show.
"It's okay,
I'm going to help you through this."
You smile and kiss my forehead,
and I can feel hot tears
running down my face.
You take your thumb and wipe them,
and lay me down again.
You put your arms around me,
and I bury my face in your chest.
I begin crying,
something I have not done in many years,
and you run your fingers through my hair,
Waiting for me to stop.
I stop,
and you kiss the top of my head.
"It's going to get better, Edward."
"Thank you, Roy."