Hold You Hopeful

She shouts in my ear
screams of rage and pain.
This pain of course is not her own -
a version of what mine might be
if not numbed by the ice chipped
from your shoulder,
your heart.

She tries not to tell me
of fork tongued revelations.
Sparks fly from her very syllables
forcing me to cringe.

I laugh out loud
trying to hide the urge
the urge to strike the nearest breath
the nearest smile.

I offered explanations
of what part of this had rotted.
I offered my mind
but my soul somehow
was forgotten.

You own a part in the heart
that beats readily in my chest.
She wants more of it, for
she feels you can’t treat it well.
The bruise you’ve caused it eating
sinking, biting, gnawing over
the dotted line she made.

This is why!
This is why!
She repeats.

But I still hold you
hopeful.