i'm still lying in the dark corner of my room where i fell asleep, bruised and tired, tear stained and torn. he's also there still, asleep in the bed. my bed. i'm asleep but i still feel the ache in the side of my head, my throbbing lip, my bruised back. and i'm aware of the self inflicted cuts on my arms, though i don't feel any pain from them. blood trickles over my exposed and battered body which appropriatly reflects the state of my mind. and then he's there. he holds my head in his lap, and his hands gently brush the tangled, tear-damp hair from my face and tells me in a voice i don't know it will be ok. i breathe and my fears and doubts are expelled with the heavy air. he stays with me until i wake.
