Rambling

There is no air in my lungs and I wonder how long they've been empty...

but I can't even remember what day it is.

When you're breathless around someone it's supposed to be a good thing, right?

So why are my fingernails are leaving bloody trails down my own arms, clenching and unclenching to a frantic rythm?

My heart feels as if it is a sledgehammer colliding with my ribcage, willing to grind my fragile bones to dust if only to escape these gentle hands as they curl around my waist.

I still love you, of course.

At least... that's what you tell me.

Because for you love was never a gift to be tucked within in gentle touches and shy smiles. It was the price tag on my broken body.

My love for your life.

...but this doesn't feel like living anymore and i'm so close to giving up that i wish you would just let me go, let me slip between your fingers like sand returning to the beach as my life ebbs into the ocean. you hold on, though, and your hands are leaving bruises now but i hardly notice because my mind is desperately clawing towards places where you cannot follow and as everything fades to the periphery all I can feel is my lungs screaming for air so I go through the motions of taking a breath but your hand is over my mouth and all I can taste is the sickening sweetness of summer strawberries as you cram them down my throat

because that's what lovers do, isn't it?