hear you me.

I can feel the ribs underneath my skin which has grown more taut in the past few weeks. Maybe the reason I don't remember eating anything specific is because I forgot to eat. Full on other things, I suppose...stress and a pulsing bliss.

My hair is pulled up and back. My eyes itch with earlier tears and smeared mascara. Sometimes it's hard to say goodbye. It was you that reminded me clichés are cliché for a reason. And emotional displays tend to be my forte once I've been convinced I can trust you.

A breathless blush.

The transition back to life (back to reality).

I hate that you seem far away. Let me mash my cheek into yours, and become small in your arms again. Could you love me for a long while?