Work Text:
The thought that tears at my breast,
Claws, tears, rips at the flesh -
Is not the notion that I could be alone.
It is that we, together, are not ourselves.
The water rises and the dam cracks.
Over time I seal it with small comfort;
Know that I will not break in isolation.
I fear not that a man would ask me to submit,
To become meek, passive, mousey,
No, I fear that I would offer it all without request.
I fear that I would be pleased with myself for doing so.
In truth, no man has asked.
No man has suggested that I am lesser.
No man insinuated I must be.
He allows me respect and freedom before I could whisper my request.
I fear that he would be trapped,
Shunned from weakness, forced into fortitude,
So much that I could never see his face.
I fear he would never see me as comfort.
I fear he would use me as justification
To keep going,
To never display a glimpse of frailty.
I fear he would seal the cracks in his damn,
Utter to himself,
"Be strong for her,
For she depends on your mettle,
Your might,
Your determination."
For he can take anything,
So he has been told.
So has it been spat at him.
My love,
Just as you do not expect my lowly humility,
I do not expect your rigid vigor.
Come to me,
Allow me to take your hand.
Allow me to shoulder the weight.
Allow me to ease your burden.
For I need to comfort
As desperately as you need to be relieved.
And in truth,
The thought that I could not
Damages me more than being lowly ever could.