Water Between Us

There's a river between us now.

That's the only reason you're still breathing.

I can't cross running water.

Never could. Even before.

You're on your hands and knees on the other bank.

Shaking. Watching me watch you.

You don't know whether to run or cry.

I'd tell you to do both, but my throat forgot how to make that sound.

Water between us.

Water between what I was and what I am.

You're safe on that side.

But don't call it mercy.

Mercy requires a heart.

Mine stayed in a furrow thirty autumns ago.

I used to know the names of rivers.

Used to drink from them.

Used to see my face in them.

Now I just watch the light move on your skin

And try to remember what it felt like

To be looked at without someone screaming.

You're crying.

That's good.

At least one of us still can.

They say gold stops me. That's true.

Throw a coin and I have to pick it up.

But you don't have any gold, do you?

You have a pocket full of dust and bad decisions.

Same as I did.

Same as I did.

Water between us.

Water between the blade and the bone.

I could wait here until the river dries.

But rivers lie.

They tell you they'll change.

They never do.

Neither will I.

Go home.

Lock your door.

Sleep with the candle on.

If you dream of hooves,

Don't look out the window.

I'll be gone by morning.

Or maybe I'll just stand here

Until the river learns my name.