The boy you loved drowned

Drowns every day
But he hasn’t come back
(He always does)
Maybe won’t
The icy shoreline whispers
“And if he doesn’t?”

He will
He has too

You don’t want to think about it

It whispers a lot to you
In the quiet moments like this
Before he comes back
Like
“What’s the point?”
(You say that this is the only way you’ll fix him)
“And what about yourself?”
(You say that you’re not the one drowning)
“You’re choking on paint again”
It says
And

You are
Dripping down your lips, cold like blood isn’t, not the right shade
Too chalky
Hardening in your lungs, but you missed a spot
So you drink another coat down

It stops talking
And the boy you love washes up on the shoreline
So you wring the blood of his lungs
Set a fire in his heart

And try again

She stumbled, a half-drug path, on the road
Death dripping from her mouth
Fear and madness in her blazing eyes
the light of a roaring
dying
fire behind them

and all were scared

huddled in houses, peering through windows at their terror, at their downfall
except one, who thought ‘isn’t this sad?’
and cried “Isn’t this cruel?”
“an animal doomed to die, body stolen to personify demise,
Isn’t that a tragedy?”

And wasn’t it?

Muscles pushed forward only by the necessity to spread, to infect
Pushed without care of a dying vessel
dried and cracking and mad
Nothing really left of her
Nothing really left for her
Except a blissful sleep

And the one who cried, who mourned Death itself
Who wished to cradle the unfortunate body in his arms
For a last, kind embrace
Instead aimed a shotgun towards it’s heart
And granted it rest

They asked
“are you happy?”
And the question echoed through a devastated void

it was the way he glowed
lit up entire street blocks as he walked
like he’d swallowed a million fireflies
and let them loose every time he opened his mouth
to speak
and devour your heart




it was the way he looked at you
like you were something real
like you were something beautiful

you aren’t, you try to tell him. tell him a million times, never tell him enough.

“That’s just the skin I wear.”

he must see that
(that you are a wretched thing, built sharp and toxic
that the blood doesn’t wash off your hands anymore
that he should be as far from you as he can get)


he must be blind you think
or stupid
but nobody’s ever made your heart skip like he did





it was the way he touched you
slow and soft
more like bruised fruit than
the knife that you were

you warned him that he would cut himself doing that
your skin was not meant to touch
but he still kissed your ****** lips
and held your treacherous hands
like things that were made for something so tender
such as love





you tell him that you are not

something living and breathing
something warm and glowing and beautiful
something human
something like him

but that boy
he loves you
he’d love you for anything


you love him too

it hurts

you’ve split open more people than you can count
stopped counting
but the way he looks at you-
eyes so wide
waves clashing against rock, harsh, deafening
pleading
desperate
rapids in his mouth as he speaks, a slurred fatal thing
“I don’t-”

but then the ocean goes silent and cold and still and-
you think that you’d like to split yourself apart

start at the stomach, your biggest knife
drag it up, bones scraping, through your spine
up your sternum, break every rib, until it reached your heart
rip that apart too
maybe you could breath then through what’s left of your lungs
maybe then you could get the taste of his blood out of your mouth

you drink poison to **** all your living parts
your bleeding parts
to **** all the things inside you that can feel
but you can still see the blood on your hands
but you still want to burn every inch of you that touched him

so

you **** and you **** and you **** and you ****
and you ****
and you
****
you **** everything you touch
you poison everything good
you remember the way he looked at you
eyes so wide
blood falling from his lips
a calamitous fatal thing
and-

it hurts

he
strolled into the room,
flickering
faltering
burnt at the edges
icicles in his throat
hand to his guts as they fell to the floor

and you wanted to go up and touch his face
wipe the blood from his lips
say
“Oh god no im sorry im sorry
im so ******* sorry”
But that won’t fix how split and broken and spilling he is inside

(always was that way, You should’ve known, stupid kid, You can’t fix everyone)

But this wasnt just anyone, never had been just anyone, you wouldn’t do this if it was just- anyone but
But
but

instead, you watch, eyes swimming with icy waters as he
picks himself up, bloodied hands cradling waterlogged lungs
intestines hung like tinsel
shattered little heart glittering on the ground
and
doesnt look at you
laughs cold and bitter and longing

“Feels like every other day, huh?”

you laugh
when she says that the world ends every other day
bitterly
longing
"i wish"

she says nothing
paint drips down her lips

you wanna say that
you are drowning dying someone save me im drowning
drowning
drown
ing

but instead you
let the fish swim in your lungs
harden your heart into a bright reef
spit up water, choke
say "i'm kidding"
"i'm joking, okay?"
"don't worry so much"

she sighs
does that a lot these days
like she knows
something
you don't