Larger than a bread box
”Let me go," you beg as my hands cover your self-inflicted wounds,
“Please just let me go,” you beg a second time,
I say, “no,”
I don't know where you'll go when I release your wrists if the crimson tide will float you away,
It’s like that time we went swimming and you were swept out to sea and I swam you back to shore ,
But this time I’m sure the tide will sweep you out to sea that you’ll never reach the shore
and words pour from my mouth like waves crashing over you,
Shakily I say, “hey let’s take your mind off this dying business play twenty questions. I’ll start larger than a breadbox I’ll be animal and you’ll be plant and I know plants sprout best from dead carcasses but I need you here on our weekend friend dates which are more than just friend dates because we are more than friends”
but the words get caught in my throat and I think them over and over and over again,
letting go of your bleeding wrists and hugging you body,
but you no longer smell of the sandalwood candles littering your room,
You’re just a corpse