unravel

Just knowing you is like trying to breathe under water.
You fill my lungs with choked up memories,
my ears with whispers,
and my heart with uncertainty.
I try to swim up to meet the surface,
reaching desperately for a hand that isn’t there.
Your heart is somewhere else,
beating,
warm,
underneath the covers of another’s bed.
I fear that this ends come morning,
that I’m back to confronting all these demons alone.
There are books full of words that vouch for my existence,
but you read none of them.

M.