Thin Ice

I creep my toes carefully along the edge of the frozen pond

Trepidation

Worry

With-holding

Your hand drifts across the back of my scalp and I wonder if I'm dreaming that I feel it...

You.

I notice that you sat closer: our feet were touching

I don't
want
To question

[it's my nature]

You allowed me to curl up - tiny - voiceless - problems you have nothing to do with: my head on your stomach: wrapped up and feeling tears protruding, invading my cheekbones: I want so badly to be vulnerable...

I fill a bowl with goldfish crackers and cashews

You tell me "I might cry" and I want to climb inside your skin to find the child who was told you shouldn't.

Find him and hold his face and say "Crying is free. Crying is for everyone. Crying is beautiful."

I can't.

So I don't

But I let you talk about things you've told me before. I let Anxiety speak for you. I learn what his voice sounds like. I learn which parts are him, and which parts are you. And I hold you with my soul.

I hold you.

I won't let you fall through.