It’s sweet, it’sĭesperate, like he has to have me, like he’s dying to memorize the feel of my lips against his own. His lips are softer than anything I've ever known, soft like a first snowfall, like biting into cotton candy, like melting and floating and being weightless in water. He says “Please don’t shoot me for this.”
I can’t feel my fingers or the cold or the emptiness of this room because all I feel is him, everywhere,filling everything and he whispers Breathingīetween us and he’s so close, he’s so close and I can’t feel my legs anymore. Loneliness is a bitter, wretched companion. You can't find the words to fight yourself, to fight the words screaming that you're not enough never enough never ever enough. Loneliness is an old friend stand beside you in the mirror, looking you in the eye, challenging you to live your life without it. You doubt you doubt you doubt.Īnd even when you're ready to let go. You fail to fall asleep at night and tremble in your skin. You wake up in the morning and wonder who you are.
It's a constant companion, clasping your hand only to yank you down when you're struggling to stand up. It leaves lies in your heart, lies next to you at night, leaches the light out of every corner. It wraps itself around your bones, squeezing so tight you almost can't breathe. It creeps on you, quiet and still, sits by your side in the dark, strokes by your hair as you sleep.
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