Ana

I leaned on her shoulder, crying silently at first, but after a measure my silent cry turned to a raucous wail. I'd had enough of everyone's wounding venomous words. I could hold it in no longer. And she held me there as long as I needed her to. She did not demand anything of me. She only took what I had to give. Never more. But also never less. I called out her name in the dark of night and she heard my cry. She anwsered swiftly. Ana ran to my side. Removed all the excess until all there was, all there is, all i want, is she and me. Until I am in her, and she in me. In my head she rests now. She whispers quietly into my ear. Ana lulls me with her lullaby, making promises of tomorrow in my head. She sings to me, "I am your butter and your bread; the voice that's in your head. I will take you in and fill you up with a lack of being fed. I will give you happiness. All you have to lay at my feet is the very thing that keeps you alive. You will die for me, my love. We are one mind. Where one of us lives, the other perishes." And as I listen to death's song, I smile. Ana, whom promised to give me everything, has left me nothing. Nothing but a skeleton. I am happy. She loves me.