that familiar tickle in the back of your nose
letting you know
that tears are in your immediate future
unless you do something:
wiggle it
look up
blink
blink
blink
inwardly deny the wave of pain on the horizon
like: "I'm not gonna cry, I'm not gonna cry"
sigh...

now here comes the real test:
look at him in his face
directly in his eyes
making sure yours don't waver
because he knows you
oh, so, well, too well
and, to him, you're so readable
too readable
with your heart so evident on your sleeve
do not look down
smile and say, "nothing's wrong,
i'm okay,
i'm good."
and pray
pray he doesn't force it
because you know for a fact
that you have no desire to talk about it

but of course he will
and he does
press
poke
prod
ply
anything to pry it out of you

and now here's that familiar ache in your throat
pushing closer to the precipice
his gaze piercing you
penetrating your layers
as you attempt to preserve the power your walls provide
but, the pressure is way too high
your plight becomes prevalent
and the pain in your throat becomes plainly indicative
of the perpetual prick in your heart
that he never really realizes
until it's a tad bit too late
until your feeling that familiar feeling again
his perception fails him
blinding him to the weapon in his possession
he doesn't understand that he holds a knife within his mouth
and with every truth he speaks
he thrusts it deeper
and with every slip of the tongue
he unknowingly makes it worse
and from his words, you interpret
"i love you,
but, you're second best.
i'll never leave you,
but, you're holding me back"
and now, you feel like a replacement
an alternative
bringing back the familiar speculation
that you can so easily be left.

you're so insecure
and here comes the familiar unsteadiness in your hands
because he is forcing the matter
and you know he won't let up
won't let it drop
he knows something isn't right
the familiar prick in the corner of your eyes is next
isn't this scene all too familiar?
uncomfortable in your vulnerability
as the tears strip you bare right before his eyes
but not completely
because the problem refuses to pass your lips
as your discomfort and distress whisper
ever so gently down your face
their feather soft touch stroking your features
tenderly caressing your smooth cheeks
the familiar tickle as they run across the bridge of your nose
finally reaching your chin
and they drip, drip

the dams break
words shatter the silence
clattering to the floor
nonsensically
illogically
so caught up in your desolation
the ability to organize your thoughts into sensible phrases
evades you
until you take a deep breath and recover from your graceless, blathering confession
explaining your pain
as he attempts to placate you

and the familiar feeling of
the weight pinning you to the ocean floor
is released
and you float upwards out of depression
into his arms
into relief...
isn't this scene so familiar?