Who is there
when the lights go out
and the cold knocks on your window
to hold you?
Who lets you know
you’re safe when your own lungs
are afraid to open
for fear of letting in a draft?
Who is there when they are so busy
and your life is so stagnant
and you don’t know how to say:
Who can pry open your mouth
when you have tied it with
black lace so pretty, so hurtful
and it looks like you’re smiling?
Who can reach down with their hands
to help you from the grave you’re digging
when all you manage to do
is flinch at the thought?