I have memorized the bends of your body,
Like a prayer, I have the sound of your name
Nestled carefully in my ribcage, and so
Every time I need air; or the lack of it,
I put my hand down my windpipe and pluck you out
Syllable by syllable, mixing you with blood
And tears, and blue paint.
When I try to sleep I feel your hands
On my body
Moving carelessly from the nape of my neck to my thigh,
Marking your territory. And some days,
I wake up under unfamiliar chalk white sheets.
And some nights,
I sober down to find lips against my lips tracing outlines on my loneliness.
So I politely excuse myself, and run
Back into the abyss that surrounds me like an eternal winter.
I have you saved like half a tablet,
The one I crush with the back of a spoon, neatly drawing lines
And then messing them up with my fidgeting hands.
I wish I knew why I needed you.
I wish there was a way to stop.