Her sobs punch me eardrums.

Green eyes rimmed with red,
she presses her forehead firmly into her knee caps.
I stare at her hands and imagine them in his.

“I can’t breathe underwater like I used to…”

Passed out on the floor
she gasps for air.
I bet she dreams of water falls and razorblades.

He flattened her optimism with his realism.
Confused by body parts and heartbeats,
they made disappointment a language.

Illiterate lovers

*“I can’t breathe underwater like I used to, before I met you...”