or the tears are making me see wrong.
Maybe he texted.
Maybe he didn’t mean it.
Maybe…
But nothing.
I stare at the screen hard enough
to burn his name into it.
Sean. Sean. Sean.
I pull the blanket up over my head.
To hide from the fact
I let him inside me.
And now his touch still crawls
all over me.
I rip the covers off.
I can’t breathe under there.
Or on top of here.
Or anywhere.
I just want to fall asleep.
I don’t have to be underwater to hear my heart. It’s screaming. And I don’t have to touch my chest to feel my heart. It’s burning. I only have to be alive, and the ache is a knife slashing my insides.
The last time I could feel my heart was when Mom died.
I want it to stop—please.
My legs hurt too.
My thighs,
my chest,
my lungs.
I'm a prisoner in my skin that doesn't belong to me anymore.
I gave it away.
I gave it away.
I gave it away.
‘I love you, I thought you loved me, too…I won’t tell anyone…I’m not going to pressure you…You’re the one…I’ve been waiting… I love you... Forever... We should just do it…I’m not going to pressure you…I thought you loved me…’
