he's like salt on an open wound
when he carried me back,
dreaming of reality, and what
i would do tomorrow to
keep myself [sane] if i
woke up with him beside me.

it hurts to be ideal, to think
of him as salvation from
self-absorption.

i chose to be like this,
too many reasons why,
none of them lingered long
enough,
now i want to claim me
once more.

but it's terminal,
i'm afraid i could be contagious.
and he always tries to breathe me in
so i hold my breath.
purple looks good on me.
and dammit, i look good on him.

i am slowly eating myself away.
nails first.
and undoubtedly, i will
eat him up too,
heart last.

but then these words
fluttered from his lips.

"let it be, in the end,
maybe we can take each other home."

he has claimed me.

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