To My Constant
You have been my first for everything. I often graze my fingernails along your arm, you like the way I linger on your skin. For once, I like sticking around longer than I have to. You have learned what it means to tame the inconsistencies in my life.
I like to think I come from the union of shouts, of screams, of disruption. When I was younger, my fingernails imprinted themselves into my palms. I have always wanted to dig myself out of my own skin. I grew up lying in the bed my parents had made, the disorder of our house lulled me to sleep. I look in the mirror and I see my father. I had learned to hate my reflection.
I lie now, in the bed you have made. With you, it is quiet. The cold air kisses my skin, your body warms me. Sometimes, I look at you and I see myself. Loving you has taught me to love us both.