They Still See You

You wake up and you feel it again,

the most familiar weight.

A series of chains

tied links around every limb,

around your neck, around your chest and stomach

each inhale laboured and sharp

birthing pains of each new second

but you aborted your future when you gave in to your anguish.

It all pierces past a certain point,

your pain glistens upon your bedside table,

is reflected in every window you walk past

empty eyes searching through the landscape for cleansing rain or

perhaps

for hope.

The ice

pervades the room,

all warmth made absent,

it permeates your veins

and droplets spill out when you’re speaking

incensed, now, a small annoyance turned to something major,

venomous vitriol on the face of your loved ones,

baffled at their backing up and

leaving.

Time still wears its wicked rictus grin

with pride,

there is nowhere you can hide

a truth, of course,

but you cannot hide from love, either.

The weight of those chains,

the ice within your veins,

it is all maintained

and deepens, corroding the cold bed it sits on.

You promised you would change but

still your pains remain and

you find yourself alone, caressed by a bottle.

Keep your head high, loved one,

someone still sees you

exactly as you are,

aching.

They still see the child inside you

bottom lip wobbling

waiting impatiently for this rain to pass.