Delusion

You can never resist the urge to submit to my vulnerability.

I wonder if you'll ever get tired of playing superhero. I box you in that label, which does not really do justice to who you really are to me.

It seems that I still haven't shaken off the old bad habit of relying on you to pull me out of my lonely rut. Underneath the thick blanket is a distressing wakefulness. It is the second year after the end of the world.

Hush now. You need some sleep.

My head is now surrendering on the pillow. I continue to weep. You stroke my hair gently. It is enough to make me feel at ease. My thoughts begin to slow down. Exhausted is what I am.
I can't even bring myself to look behind me and see if you are really there. In the morning, you will be gone without a trace. Like you always do.

Slowly, I am drifting in seclusion.

I will always love you, beautiful infidel.