It has to be you, it's only been you

Sometimes I think I met you too soon

That we were too young to have made it by any margin of reason

Too immature, too naive, too drunk on ourselves to care

I know I was, even if you might not have been

There was no rational way we should have made it

You were the last mercy I was granted

Existences can spiral out of control by design, as well

At least ours did

We willingly traded our nights for slow blinks with dry eyes

Our breaths for gasps and choked off screams

Breakfasts and dinners for stained dishes and containers in the fridge

Our lives for the lives of countless things less worthy than you

And I love you too much

More than I should

But who else would love you the way I do

The way you look under the near-white kitchen lights

When the halogen seeps under your eyes

And makes them look even darker

When you can’t sleep

And you glue your arms around my back

The way your fingers thrum up my chest

To rest against my heartbeat to make sure it’s still there

Clammy and cold and laced with fear without words

And how we could have lived without it but we didn’t

I know this is the path we chose

That we willingly gave up so much

For things both paltry and grand

But oh God, sometimes I lie awake

And I beg, I plead, to anything, to nothing

Please, please, let me keep this one

Your hands tremble around the coffee mug

You’re clutching it way too hard in order to keep it from showing

I wish I could wipe the crease between your brows away

With a touch, a look, a smile

But I know this is a darkness you will have to wander through alone

And all I can do is wait on the other side

I think I’m better at fooling the world than you are

Though it might be because you’ve stopped caring, if you ever did

It’s ironic how you’re the strange one, the anomaly

Because you don’t lie the way I do

But it’s okay because I love you even though you’re off beat

And you love me even though I’m a liar

More often than not we give up on normalcy these days

Too tired to even try playing house

And sink below instead

Into bitten nails, sweat-soaked sheets and burnt out lights

To us, to you, to our white-lit, black-smudged existence

To bruises shaped like fingertips and missed calls

Artwork by Danielle Amorim.