I have never held a tighter grip
than I did in that moment
on your Black Flag t-shirt
draping over your trembling chest
the smell of hash and cigarettes
clung to our damp bodies
I had hoped it would mask
the stench of loneliness in the room
as your arms began to grasp tighter
around my broken bag of bones
I whispered something into your ear
and I have since then been repeating it
over and over again in my head
trying to make sense of it

*I'm not ready to let go yet.