Inhale
He loves me.
Exhale
He loves me not.
Inhale
I beam at him and he smiles back, revealing a set of pearly white teeth under soft pink lips.
Exhale
He turns his head just a slight degree past my gaze, over my shoulder to the girl behind me.
Inhale
My hand grazes his fingertips as we pass in the halls. My fingers twitch as soon as the contact is gone. And I long to lace my fingers between his again like our appendages are colored string destined to become a beautiful tapestry.
Exhale
I turn back to him to find him trailing away from me (on a path I cannot follow). His fingers, calloused and still. No muscles spams. No joints twitch. Not even a slight give that he just touched me or was effected by the absence of me.
Inhale
I read people who like someone mirror their actions. I test this theory by standing by his side in conversation and shift my weight on my feet from right to left. Once. Twice. Three times.
Exhale
I search for the tiniest twinge in his foot to know he, at least, subconsciously thought of moving: that maybe his body would give him away to the truth of his soul. But the only thing that changes is my view of him as he faded in and out of my view.
Inhale
He loves me(?)
Exhale
If it is love would I even have to ask?
Inhale
And choke
Exhale
And gasp for something that isn't there:
This lack of oxygen in my
lungs.
This lack of love in my
heart.
This lack of warmth in my
arms.
These mutilated flowers lay in my lap. White and yellow scatter on the pristine marbled floors.
This lack of life they once contained.
"Just breathe." The doctor whispers to me. As if it were that easy. As if air could fix everything.
"I have been," I want to cry to her. I touch the bouquet of rotting flowers I plucked from the ground (because I found them too beautiful to leave).
Daises-but he called them weeds.
I called them flowers.
But instead of reacting in emotion, I remain stoic and continue a response to the woman in white, "It doesn't matter what I breathe, if it isn't what I need. And I need the love he can't give me."
Inhale
A single white petal browned with age falls.
"I love him." I say with what's left of my breaths.
Exhale
A second follows after the first.
"He doesn't love me."
Inhale
I can only live so long without air-
Exhale
-Only so long without love.
Inhale
Exhale
Inhale
Exhale
Inhale
Exhale
Inhale
I will breathe (lies) until there's nothing left of me.
YOU ARE READING
Poems
Poetry"I know that sometimes for people, I feel like too much; But let me kiss away the phantom pain that the scars remind you of, Let me kiss the burns on your hands, From when you touched the burning fire within my soul. Let me show you that yes, I am...
