Drowning On my Own Air

To stay by the ones you love the most, is to eternally make suffering your post.  To welcome hurt and pain as a host, to comfort them and see it returned as a ghost.  A stripped version of its real meaning, I see their effort as a hollow gleaming.  Always struggling, wondering if their hearts are for the keeping.  Always struggling, while my own heart is fleeing.  I turn the other cheek just to be striked once more; I am a catalyst awaiting your sadness, wrath, swimming in your core.  Taking what little they give; knowing always I want more!  But I never ask, I never look, for I know they are the crooks that leave my body an empty store.  Again and again I suffer, for they know not what they do.  My blame hides in the shadow of their ignorant ignorance, leaving me with nothing to do.  I want to fly the coup but am a slave to the responsibilities of the nest.  Understanding their soul, chained by the truth, that they never want to be left.  As their words crash against my feeble soul, and their actions prove time and time again that they do not know, I stand steadfast and unwavering in their ocean of chaos never to be a passenger but to be trotted on as the boat.  During the calm of the storm they are with my every nook and cranny, but at the first sign of an unnerving wave I am abandoned like a son abandoned by his daddy.  I wait crushed, for the depths to sink me, into the abyss I go hoping they will look for my pieces, hoping I’ll be missed, hoping they do not drown in me.