this little fight

her

i remember the first time i laid eyes on her.
sixth grade in a sweatshirt of my favourite youtubers and i watched her all day. i wanted to say something,  anything, but my lips remained sewn together like a doll, glassy eyes seeing her reflection when you looked at them. she walked out at the end of the day and my body was overrun with guilt that i didn't speak a word to her.

ninth grade we connected and i fell in love, a painful, slow death where your blood flows out of your body so slowly you think you might just be able to save yourself. you feel your skin burning and your hands going numb, your legs unsettlingly tingling and you realize you're crying.

tenth grade all of the blood finally flowed out of me and into her bucket and i lay empty and blue, hands and feet gone, body aching no matter how much advil i took. i watched her walk away with her bucket with my mouth sewn shut and my eyes glossed over so you could only see her reflection in them.  my hair in my hands, empty follicles bleeding air as i lay there, filed with guilt.