she's always there.
back of my mind.
without exception.
whether it's a half grainy sound of her voicemail at 3 am telling me to fuck off or the noise of my fingers on the keyboard as i write this down. consistence.
i am writing a letter but this is not what it feels like. i don't know what to call this.
i am too scared to give it a name,
to give her a name.
i don't know who i am.
feelings have always come
without precaution
without warning
without labels.
it's unsettling.
not being able to breathe just because of one person. i can see her holding my heart,
a hand of a cold january morning. cardiovascular organ.
how easy to break
to tear
to burn
to create something out of it. i am lost in technical terms but far away
for now
it is just a heart.
unattainable fear.
i can feel her cool fingers in my hands, trailing up, not frozen like that morning, no, she is alive and moving and breathing and wanting.
it's a projection i know.
another day dream.
another nightmare. she seems synonymous to both.
stealing the air in my lungs and having the ability to cure it all with just one touch.
i am no man, metaphorically. i think rationality drove me away from the possibility of you and i.
there is no proper way to say sorry
god knows this isn't it.
