i am staring at the wall in my room and imagining a life, soft and clean.
we wake up together, and the time doesnt matter. we drink coffee and tea not because we need it, but just to share something warm. there is time to sit with eachother. i wash our mugs in the sink, when i kiss you my lips taste like honey. we shower just to feel the water. there is nothing under my fingernails. the soap is supposed to be scented like ripe cherries and milk, but i think it just smells like you. there is time to rest. breakfast varies, but today we want pancakes. and we make them, and we eat them slowly, and i tell you about my dreams and you always listen. there is nothing on in the background. we are beautiful. it doesnt hurt to do laundry. i am not scared of the open floors, or the empty couch. i do not feel sick, my body heals. your spine rarely aches, and when it does, we just rest. there is nothing else.
its you. still, all of it. every friend i make, every person i leave behind, every bedroom, every meal, every shower, every time i bleed, it is always you. i thought of you today when i made a coffee for myself (i drink that now) and i thought of you when i had a nightmare about someone elses cruelty. there is so little left, i became only what you decided to spare me. i wake up and i tell myself this life is beautiful, that i’m lucky to see it all, and there is so much here that i might've missed out on.
i am only scraps of what could have existed if only you hadn’t. some nights there is more to mourn than there is to love.
