Paroxysm

In Another Universe

Lately, I've been thinking about what my life may have been like if I hadn't met you.
How parallel universe me is doing without your name resting like a bed of thorns at the tip of her tongue.
And everything would still be held in within my walls, I would spend more time staining my tongue with Bloody Marys rather than smashing glass bottles against my flesh
I wouldn't have so many stories that start with laughter and end with me crying out into the sky.
Maybe then the sky wouldn't be dissolving every time I looked up.
And the ghosts would be drowning in the bays rather than floating through my head and trying to take control of my hands.
My rib cage might not now feel like an unassembled jigsaw puzzle, because you swallowed the missing pieces of me.
My heart wouldn't be bleeding through my ears, fingertips, shattered shoulder blades, and the soles of my feet.
I wouldn't be laying on my bedroom floor covered in sawdust and decaying within my own tangled guts.
There wouldn't be any gruesome stories to tell, and I would still be somewhat whole.
Everything would be fine and I could go back to pretending that I don't understand the meaning of the word crumble. That I don't understand the feeling of being broken, of being empty.
The thing is you're probably breaking every girls heart in that parallel universe too.