***
i would not tell you that you hurt me
because my pride would not let me,
because i do not want to have to draw a pathetic string of shifted blame from your chapped lips,
because i know that my hurt does not take away yours—and that my hurt has never done me any good from the start.
so we will sit here in the waiting;
hopelessly trying to fill the empty spaces
between our breaths
- to no avail.
my eyes will stay fixed upon the sunlit shadows sitting amidst the corners of the four walls enclosing our lonely bodies.
for i know, if i look at you,
i will remember that breathing is automatic
& not a choice.
your fingertips will tiredly dance across the distressed rips in your black jeans in an effort not to reach for mine.
for you know, if you touch me,
it will remind you of everything you cannot have.
so we will sit here in the waiting;
afraid to let go of the heartbreak that binds us together because it is also the only thing keeping us from falling apart.
(to no avail.)
your forehead will rest upon mine,
the oxygen between us will become recycled.
we will not lie to each other.
i will not gaze at you,
and you will not grasp for me.
despite the fact that two broken souls do not make a whole—i would rather be broken with you, than without.
— we found solace in the pain we shared, although we brought that pain upon ourselves.
