A Song of Sorrow

I saw him as someone he wasn’t – someone filled with goodness instead of the festering calamity that actually inhabited him. His touch was like lightning, and I’d always loved storms. I thought eyes seeing me meant a heart loving me, but I couldn’t have been more wrong.

The ground shook when I realised I couldn’t give him breathable air to inhale, and I never considered it might be him adding toxin to the atmosphere. I never considered that his disease might be killing me too.

This is me trying to explain all the ways he carved me up. This is me trying to describe all the ways I tried to do the opposite for him. I want the world to know who he truly is because no matter what I do, I cannot tell the girl I was in time.

But if I could tell her one thing it would be this: that rope he is holding is not your lifeline, it is your noose.

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