Just Barely

Here I am,

Holding on.

The tips of my fingers are beginning to bleed,

My arms beginning to ache.

You're there above me, 

Hardly trying,

That frighteningly lovely grin plastered to your face.

Sweat drips from my temple through the thin rags I wear,

All torn to shreds by the words you hurl.

In between hurled insults you whisper words of devotion.

How can I believe,

When you sit there above me,

Happy and free.

Barely trying.

I ask myself again,

As tears begin to flow and mingle with the salty sweet sweat,

Already plastered to my face.


Why am I the only one so desperate?