(no subject)
your bird-like arms would press me against the sheets, and i would smile between my teeth, knowing that this could stay, that this could be real, that this didn't have to be like all the others. i can feel you leaving me like a fever slowly breaking. i could feel it before you would admit the truth. there are nights when street lights cradle the spaces you left. there are moments i forget you were another limb, another vein. i categorize my emotions methodically. i schedule my sadness by the hour. i don't need these retroactive memories to keep me breathing, but somehow they always resurface, angry and anxious. i dont understand anything anymore.