You messaged me
at 3 a.m.,
wanting not Fred,
just me, back safe.
I lay, immense
in the night sounds
drumming an erratic heartbeat
so small,
in the stolen embrace
of the attitude of dark.

It seems like yesterday,
your words of love
fell like an expected rain.
I listened, immense
in your filtered vision
and your lies,
so fluid
as to keep me wanting.

You placed me on your pedestal;
immense, I could not fall,
but like Ozymandias,
have lain in ruins,
vulnerable, lacking.