I saw you for the first time in 19 months, your hands still felt like lightning bolts, but your mouth no longer had the word stay written across it. I saw you for the first time in 19 months, you were sitting beneath my tongue, sleeping like a child; no wonder I haven’t been able to speak right, these past two years.
I searched everywhere for you, except for where I knew you were;
maybe I did not want to find you,
maybe I did not want to know how much you changed, while I was standing
I never wanted to live without you,
I never thought, I would have to.
I grew with you inside my bones, now inside me is just empty veins, my bones no longer fit right, inside my body; now there is nothing left of me,
inside this house that is my body.