We sit in glowing rectangles,
two faces stitched together by weak signal and stronger love,
laughing like nothing has teeth in this world,
like the dark doesn’t wait just outside the frame.
We talk about everything-
and nothing-
the kind of nothing that keeps me breathing,
the kind of everything that makes me forget
how heavy my chest feels when I’m alone.
Sometimes this is enough
to trick my soul into eating again,
to make happiness bloom like a lie I’m willing to believe.
I smile-
not even noticing when it starts.
She looks at me
like I am still whole.
She calls me her world,
and I let her,
even though mine is quietly collapsing
behind my eyes.
She is my heart,
my pulse when mine stutters,
my light-
too bright to let her see
the shadows I’ve been feeding.
She tells me not to drink too much,
not to drown myself in smoke and silence,
as if she can sense the way I disappear
in smaller, quieter ways.
Her messages come like lifelines-
“Are you okay?”
-and I always answer just enough
to keep her from breaking.
Because she doesn’t know.
She doesn’t know
how close I’ve come to vanishing,
how I’ve stood on the edge of myself
and leaned forward.
She doesn’t know
how I poison my lungs
just to feel something stay.
She doesn’t know
that my world is slipping-
grades falling,
teachers watching,
pieces of me unraveling in plain sight.
She doesn’t know
that every day
feels like a quiet rehearsal
for disappearing.
And I will never let her know.
I would swallow every darkness twice
if it meant her light stayed untouched.
I would bury myself alive in silence
just to keep her laughing
on the other side of a screen.
Because she is not just my sister-
she is the reason I am still here,
the reason I hesitate
when the void calls my name.
She is my whole life.
And if loving her
means breaking alone in the dark,
then I will.
Mar 18
Mar 18, 2026 at 2:05 PM UTC
We sit in glowing rectangles,
two faces stitched together by weak signal and stronger love,
laughing like nothing has teeth in this world,
like the dark doesn’t wait just outside the frame.
We talk about everything-
and nothing-
the kind of nothing that keeps me breathing,
the kind of everything that makes me forget
how heavy my chest feels when I’m alone.
Sometimes this is enough
to trick my soul into eating again,
to make happiness bloom like a lie I’m willing to believe.
I smile-
not even noticing when it starts.
She looks at me
like I am still whole.
She calls me her world,
and I let her,
even though mine is quietly collapsing
behind my eyes.
She is my heart,
my pulse when mine stutters,
my light-
too bright to let her see
the shadows I’ve been feeding.
She tells me not to drink too much,
not to drown myself in smoke and silence,
as if she can sense the way I disappear
in smaller, quieter ways.
Her messages come like lifelines-
“Are you okay?”
-and I always answer just enough
to keep her from breaking.
Because she doesn’t know.
She doesn’t know
how close I’ve come to vanishing,
how I’ve stood on the edge of myself
and leaned forward.
She doesn’t know
how I poison my lungs
just to feel something stay.
She doesn’t know
that my world is slipping-
grades falling,
teachers watching,
pieces of me unraveling in plain sight.
She doesn’t know
that every day
feels like a quiet rehearsal
for disappearing.
And I will never let her know.
I would swallow every darkness twice
if it meant her light stayed untouched.
I would bury myself alive in silence
just to keep her laughing
on the other side of a screen.
Because she is not just my sister-
she is the reason I am still here,
the reason I hesitate
when the void calls my name.
She is my whole life.
And if loving her
means breaking alone in the dark,
then I will.