He kissed me
and pulled away
and his cheeks were damp,
when he asked me why
I told him
"I don't cry, I never have,
and I wouldn't cry in front of you.
But everything feels
a little too sharp today,
so if you wanna hold me longer than usual,
that's fine."
If we're being honest,
none of this happened.
I'm in bed pretending my loneliness doesn't have a face.
I'm trying to sleep
but I'm unraveling into your hands.
There's blood,
everywhere,
I can't tell if it's mine or everyone else's.
My vision is red,
my skin is red,
and I thought that wanting someone
so much that it hurts
was a cliche
until I felt this literal ache in my ribs.