"If Only You Would Hide Me In The Grave"

Have you ever watched someone you love

destroying someone you love?

The ache.
The smarting reminders of past experience, like searing irons to the brain, hold teeth to tongue lest love for one appear a betrayal of the other.
And it does.
Every time.

Love translates to hate. Loyalty to disloyalty.
The children of divorced parents feel this way.
There are only two options: choose sides! or shrivel up and die.

You realize your weakness to choosing sides. . .
And choosing back. . .
And rechoosing. . .

Your pacing of circular paths begins to trample your own soul, rendering option two more palatable, inviting even; the battle is "not against flesh" but is more than your body can bear.

Each day ends at long last.
You bury yourself in blankets.
You say your prayers, a lullaby. . .

. . .and if I die before I wake. . .

. . .and if I die before I wake. . .