You didn't Ask

You didn’t ask me if I’d walk beside you in the dark,
You didn’t ask you wept it out - and so I held your hand;
Those frightful nights when cliffs were all you saw
And falling off them didn’t seem a long way down.
You didn’t ask, and yet my footprints glow beside yours
As the light emerges after nighttime pain.

You didn’t ask me if I’d hold your hands in mine,
You didn’t ask but cried for help - and so I held on tight;
As tears of fear and rain of angst assaulted you
Burying you in the rubble of your choices.
Your life fallen round your ankles.
You didn’t ask, and yet I run my finger with a smile
Along the fingernail marks etched into my palms.

You didn’t ask me if I’d hurt when you hurt,
Break when you broke,
Cry when tears tumbled from your soul
-And yet I did that too..
I wept those tears of blood and pain
and hurt for you

And now, all pieces neatly picked up in your heart,
All stones thrown out and thorns so gently plucked,
You tell me I’ve no right to ask to have a say in where I walk.