elusive, you slip away from me just before the moment
where we touch lips.
it always begins the same:
i, lost and love-hungry; you,
world-wounded and starving.
you never knew love that was whole and sincere, solid, tangible,
too tremendous to be real.
you clutch your chest every time…
every time i say i love you.
even my body, corporeal, here wedged between slabs of cement and cigarette breath, i shed a tear.
why do i always spin you as a tragic hero? is it always my role to be the one
who loves a little harder?
is it my fate to watch you rip yourself apart before learning to trust me enough?
when our walls come down,
like hurricanes in the summer.
your sobs cut me each time…
Mecca-Amirah Jackson 
One thought on “Every Time”