On the Fool.

Alexa St. Martin

I know you.

I know how you feel everything, in your bones at an arm’s distance.

The way you splay yourself bare, your rotten insides on display for all to see, because this is the only way you’ve ever learned to love.

I know you.

I was there when you thought you were yielding, and every time you walked away.

I know you. And I know what lies beneath your rotten flesh and withered bones.

Deep in the cavity you have carved for yourself the innocent fool lies crumbled, weeping on your cold, lifeless floor.

I know that with every act of supposed destruction upon yourself, your love for the fool grows stronger ever still.

Desperate and alone at the bottom of your well, the fool’s poor heart is breaking with you.

I know how easily you would sacrifice yourself, and leap to your death to protect your fool.

I know this is how you choose to survive, and I know that you always will.