you told me you had it under control as we’re in the car driving down a dark road, my body tenses and i nod my head.

you always have things under control, don’t you? at least, you always claim to.

but do you remember the times where you almost bust your head on the kitchen’s counter every time you get drunk because you needed to feel something else running in your veins instead of the pain of your trauma?

or how about the times where you flicked the ashes on my skin and put out the cigarette on my hand because you wanted someone else to feel your pain.

you said love meant feeling each other’s pain and i believed you. i took all your pain and carried it on my back so you didn’t have to.

it was a piggy back ride i never fully consented to, but i still went along with it because i loved you and told you there was nothing i wouldn’t do to see a smile on your face.

but the baggage got harder to carry whenever you were adding on to mine and yours at the same time.

sometimes i can still feel my spine ache when i think about it
and sometimes i can still feel that **** cigarette.