Time in Your Head

I find you of a peculiar sort.
I find you a little different;
intriguing to me.
I find you crying
in the corners of your head,
swatting at the angels
that abandoned you there.

There are bars on the windows,
and the glass is dirty,
furniture you bought from a yard sale down the street.
The paint is chipping,
and it reeks of regret,
but I'm growing attached to this little apartment
situated in the brown of your eyes.

Through the walls that separate
you from I, I can hear,
I listen
to the songs you sob,
huddled and clutching yourself.
There are no photographs
on your lonely grey walls.

I held you for hours,
and hours,
and hours,
but you didn't seem to notice a thing.

I won't make you go outside,
but please let me open the blinds,
let in a little sunlight.
It'll do us both some good.
Staying in your company
for this long is beginning to
do things to my head.

Through the walls that separate
your nightmares from the real,
I see paintings of us
hung over the windows.

Maybe I shouldn't be here.
Do you even want me here?

I look up from the sink I stand over,
washing the dishes piled there,
and find you standing
in the doorway to your bedroom, eyes
fixated on me.
I can see the scars that
cover your illusionary soul.
You try so hard;
too hard.

You lean against the doorframe,
knees threatening to buckle under the strain.
You begin to stumble,
and hit the floor,
pieces of torn poetry scattered
over the tiles.

I put my hands, still wet from
the dishwater, on your shoulders,
and let your head rest
weary on my lap.
If I could sing, I would sing
something for you, but I can't,
so we just listen to the wind
playing with the curtains
I hung this morning.

And we stay this way for hours,
and hours,
and hours,
and no one seems to notice.

You look up at me,
somewhat confused.
Was I mistaken when
you left the door unlocked,
as if you were trying to invite me in?
Was I mistaken when
you gave me a half-smile
that caused your eyes to darken,
murky and evasive
of light.

Sunlight touches
the windowsill,
edging towards the corner
I found you hiding under.
You smile,
and I think I'll have to spend a bit more
time in your head.

It'll do us both some good.