“CHANGE MY WORLD FOR ME,”

she breathes in his ear.

“YOU ARE MY WORLD.”

he stares at her,

as jumbled words – incoherent and not fall out of her trembling lips.

“YOU ARE MY WORLD AND EVERYTHING THAT IS WRONG.”

a tear runs down his cheek and she knows

she knows in the back of her mind

that it is not real

that it is not sincere

that those are just crocodile tears

that he will never change

but he is her world

and you simply cannot leave everything that you know

or you will be left with nothing

perhaps, she wonders,

nothingness will be better than now.

what does nothingness feel like?

but she cannot bear to leave him

he is her adrenaline.

he is the number of breaths she takes and the carbon dioxide she gives

his presence makes blood run through her veins;

he is her blood.
“BUT WHY IS EVERYTHING WRONG EVERYTHING RIGHT?”

her heart beats in such a foreign way that she cannot even understand its language.

he is the only person in the world that can speak it.

 

“YOU ARE MY WORLD”

he is the ribcage holding her lungs captive,

her skin plastered to the bone,

and she cannot bear to listen to the cracks and fissures of her voice.

 

“BUT, YOU ARE MY WORLD.”

he feels like a sound stuck in her throat.

 

“CHANGE THE WORLD FOR ME.”

he squeezes her into a mold so small

that she can hear the snaps of her bones;

ripping into the flesh

that he tore away a long time ago.

 

“YOU ARE MY WORLD.”

she feels too much,

and he doesn’t feel at all.

 

“CHANGE THE WORLD FOR ME.”

he takes her into his arms and tells her that he loves her

she has tried to love him

and she has tried to hate herself in return

she has tried to calm her racing heart,

the number of beats per second that her heart pounds

until she is sure that she is a hummingbird

with wings that are broken

but how can she be calm

if her body is merely a small souvenir shop

she goes when she misses nothingness?

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