You put yourself in danger,
when I wanted to get hit.
I feel so grateful now,
but it’s you that I miss.

Now you are lying cold and still,
I love you to bits.
If only I hadn’t been so selfish,
and thought as much of me as you did.

See more of Connell’s literary misadventures at paragraphplanet, WTD Magazine, and postcardshorts.com.