I'll Hold You In My Hands

The pale light is cast over your face,
as you stand on my doorstep,
shaking as blood seeps out of your nose,
staining your white t-shirt as it drips down your face.

I bite down on my lip and grab your arm,
you flinch at my touch and I frown,
It's okay Jack, I tell you,
I will never hurt you,
I tell you again that it's okay,
and as I look into your chocolate brown orbs,
I see the conflict of heart and head in your eyes.

I don't tell you how tired this routine is getting,
because I can't risk you leaving,
out on the streets, wrecked and bleeding,
I can't stand to watch you hurt.

A-Alex? you stammer,
You say my name like you're not sure of yourself,
I look up at you and I intertwine your blood covered hand with mine,
You retract your hand,
I lean forward and press my lips to the corner of your mouth,

Jack, I whisper,
But I can't look at you,
I can't see you broken and fragile in the light,
like this small, innocent child with nowhere to run.

You will never say who's hurting you,
although it goes without saying.
I grab your hand once again,
and before you can pull back I lead you into the house.

I lead you over to the sink, and I allow myself to look at you.
You have a yellowing bruise underneath your eye from the week before,
and a cut on your lip from earlier this week where you "accidently" split it open,
but we both knew I didn't believe you.

And I know beneath your clothes lay far worse damage,
And slowly I let my hands make there way to the hem of your shirt.

Carefully, I remove it and I cast my eyes downward,
I know you don't want me to look at you,
and tonight I won't,
because you're already so fucked up.

I wet a washcloth,
and gingerly start to wipe the blood from your face,
Never taking my eyes off of you,
and you're trembling under my hands,
hands that have always cared for you, should never hurt you.