We are humans in a story of gods
                        every version of me loves every version of you, and so on
          when you laugh it sounds more like sobbing but you tell me to stay here a little longer. I feel your breaths echoing in my chest.
                                I could stay like this forever.
You trace your fingers over my wrist, feeling for a pulse.
                  I don't have the heart to tell you
the truth.
                         I'm sorry about the ocean when we were twelve and the river when we were sixteen
and the ocean again when we were seventeen and we had too many dreams for our bodies.
         You smell like blood. It isn't yours, but it might as well be.
                                                                         I kiss you anyway.
You love me, but it isn't the kind of love I deserve
                                                                it's too loud, it wakes them up,
                it makes me feel too small. Here is the part where I apologize for getting blood in your hair, on your arms, spattered across your cheeks like freckles.
        I'm sorry for dying on you, but I can't help myself. I love your eyes
                I could drown in them, if I wanted to.
I could drown, if I wanted to,
                                                                but you'd never speak to me again.
You kiss me and your mouth is a slash of red. It isn't your blood, but it might as well be.
                Here is the part where you hold my body to you, let your tears mix in with the blood pooling in my stomach and around it.
        Here is the part where I don't come home.
Here is the part where every version of me loves every version of you,
                                 and so on.