I witness the slaughter of his posture, the way upright tears him apart inside. He’s still walking, the yoke of every world he refuses to fail dragging behind him, each footfall driving through the gravity sucking at his steps. I witness the exhaustion when he stops just long enough to breathe, I witness the resignation lining a face carved from bedrock. I witness the relentless strength a monster creates when he builds a heaven worth going to hell for.
I’m still swallowing the ten pound heart he pulled out of his chest to give me a second chance, I still don’t know how to save us both with his blood staining my hands. Still stumbling on unsure legs, learning to walk from this rebirth, and I witness the the war clock in his eyes counting down to the moment I learn how to run. The chains I’ll take from his shoulders as I move are nothing to how his spine will bow in my wake. I haven’t earned this, I don’t deserve this, my love is not a karmic debt to be paid. What right have I to save my life at the cost of a king’s light?