fail-safe

i sit here fingering the straight scar on her arm. i imagine all the blood, and i imagine all the emotions.
"did she feel alive while she was trying to die?" is the thought in my mind.
she takes a nice deep breath that lifts her chest and upper tummy and my head raises with her body as i lay here and rest. awake and motionless except for the one finger touching the place where she tried to make an exit plan for her soul to escape. motionless save for my thoughts running like an azawakh powerfully chasing a gazelle.
i am dependent on her love, and she lights up every time i tell her i have a surprise for her. little surprises like i made her dinner without telling her, or i bought her a cute green notebook, or i folded all the socks, or i will give her a massage after work.
i hurt inside as i think about things. i could by laying here alone with only the ghost of her haunting me.
what if every ounce of her soul gushed out of what used to be a perfect purple and crimson cut in her arm? that cut is now the scar occupying my small mind. all the smiles i have seen since we met. all the tears i have watched coast down her face and the taste of those tears as i kissed her and told her everything will be okay.
watching the stars disappear as we laid on the roof that one night.
what is it to not succeed in trying to commit suicide?
did she fail, or did she win in not dying?
if she failed then her mothers her fathers her brothers senses' of security are doomed like a teenager huffing gas then the fumes and his soaked clothing combust as his friend lights a cigarette next to him; third degree burns on the heart can never be hidden.
i am blessed to have this woman in my life.
her beautiful shell that hosts her limitless essence.
the smell of her scalp intoxicates me in ways that no drug could replicate or enhance.
i will fight every demon and painful circumstance just to keep her here.
but if the time comes for her to decide to try and leave again i am not sure what it is that will die more, the people she leaves or the pain and beauty she will no longer have the opportunity to endure.
oh please, my beautiful, please decide to stay until your heart gives out, or a truck smashes our vehicle on the freeway and we become two tiny pixels of broken bags containing broken bones and bloody hair on the earth, or until we have seen the last of all the beauty in life demonstrated in the vast array of ways that only life may deliver its beauty and go peacefully in our sleep, somehow, together.
i continue to finger her scar until all thoughts become colors and static, and i am falling off a cliff, and then... soon i am asleep with her, talking with her in that basement where the ghost of her grandfather torments us but still we laugh. i am there now, with her in our dreams. where her grandfather is kissing my knees, and taking off my shoes, but we laugh again and try to run away.