Selected Memories

I.
The air is always heavy with somethng. My lungs quicken under the pressure; this is why I am lightheaded. I lie freely to myself, but never to him.

II.
He drinks the marrow from my bones, leaving me hollow, brittle. So fragile, he says when I cry in front of him, so sensitive. I am sorry. But the tears won�t wipe away.

III.
The stars shine brightly, fade to blue. He wraps them around me like a blanket. It will keep me warm; he can walk away. I watch him go, thinking I should have asked for the moon.