Surface Tension

He held me on the sidewalk while bodies passed, dodging us like we were delicate birds in the middle of the road.

I stained his jacket like the rain looming above our heads threatened to stain the city.

We had been here before. Me grieving a loss of something I’d never had. Him towering over me like a building I could lock myself inside.

I used to think he waded in shallow waters while I sunk into the deep. I pictured his long tranquil body at the surface, a halo of sun emanating over the sea. I couldn’t reach it.

In the car I mourned the loss of nothing and felt myself sink. He held my hand just in time to keep me afloat. We locked eyes and fingers, igniting a forcefield to keep the world out.

Driving through the clutter, we escaped the muck that pressed onto our skin – mine always stickier than his it seemed.

When we were free I kissed him so he could feel the light he had left inside me.

It was then I knew we’d find our way together

through the rain,

the sea,

and up towards the sun.

Wasting Away

If only I could puke me out.

When I was done carving out my insides

I’d watch the ugly colorless excrement squirm on the floor.

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No need to kill it.

It’ll just die starving, waiting for nourishment like a newborn

– reaching out for hands.

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We’re all put off by our own vomit,

so I turn my back on it

because I’m clean now. I am.

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But wait,

a familiar acidic sting touches the back of my throat

– runs its fingers down my tongue.

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When I turn around the waste is standing behind me.

“Is something wrong?” it asks

– a foul smile forming on its face.

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And before I can answer I’m puking again.

My blood vessels burst all at once like a firecracker

And the lights go out for me too.