a hand resting at the base of a neck. fingers molding, pressing into flesh. palm against pulse, beating beating beating. blood seeking to connect, why can’t we exist inside of one another? this isn’t anger rushing to warm my cheeks, rather it’s longing because we don’t belong to each other… yet here we are joined by something bigger than the both of us.
teeth scraping against skin. soft promisses whispered into the shells of ears. love communicated through the passing of cigarettes and the inhaling of smoke. how long should we exist on each other’s tongue? desire shown by crying behind closed doors, but wiping away tears in public spaces.
lingering in hallways when the other is out of sight, muttering daydreams to make them real. disgust and despair settling on our clothes thrown across your bedroom. the window is open even now, you’ve always had an escape plan. we’re older now, our feelings didn’t die when they were supposed to. jealousy clouding crowded rooms when we stand too close; tenderness radiating from us both when someone else occupies our mouths.
we tell people it’s complicated although it’s very simple. our relationship was meant to be a feast, but neither of us were hungry then. now? now we believe the other is starving, but we’re both full.
the sun sets, we forget to hate each other. i wouldn’t be able to put you on a list of people i love. you wouldn’t be able to scream: i hate what you’ve done to me. so you whisper it into my skin at dawn, but i still hear it whenever your lips touch my spine. down on your kness, you look up at me and i know this isn’t love that i feel.
the sun rises, we hate touching each other. i’ve been imagining your mouth bloody and my knuckles bruised. i won’t be your lover, there’s too much heat. we are a house on fire and no one is coming to save us anytime soon. in the dim light of my living room, you’re glossy eyed with your hands grasping every part of me. in the early morning light, we tangle ourselves up in your bathroom and breath in whatever we can.
regret smothers us as we become convinced that we’re doing the right thing. our ribs slowly mend themselves from the last time we tried to fuse together; we are reminded that the stomach is the only hiding place. i don’t wish to hide from you, but i don’t feel like searching for the truth. joy swallows us up and grows around our bones… only when we’re in too deep to consider the consequences.
it’s complicated and very, very simple. i can’t stop you from locking your teeth around my organs; you can’t get back what i’ve taken from you. everything we’ve done is for the better.