off my ribcage
impaled and punctured by my very bones.
I knew this would happen but I still begged you to stay,
till the salt filled my throat and I could not say anything .
If this were a sickness, I’d long since be dead.
I stand here and waver and I don’t understand .
My brain’s clogged with water.
My eyes shake.
My hands shake.
But these lungs won’t stop working even when everything has.
I think I should stop writing
about a love that
no longer exists."
-"And this is how love must die"