You said you felt trapped inside an absence, nothing tasted good in months. You unbuttoned your shirt above the waist, pulled your pants down around your thighs and placed my hands against a scar.
I heard you draw in a breath. Shallow, let it out. Preface all the ones you know you’re meant to hold.
You tightened your grip:
“Can you tell where she was while my body recognized her? This is where she stayed until I had to cut her out.”
There’s no cause for guilt in the weight that you carry. I still lay my peace against your frame.
You grow stronger in your action, even if you need someone to help stabilize your will. Your voice shakes to draw the crest higher. True bravery is making a decision for yourself, and our bodies determine no portion of our worth. There’s no shame to be found in taking care of yourself; no loss to uncover in the way you survive.
We do what we have to do, and that’s all.
I made the decision to break the bottle with my fist, to slump against the house, to pull the glass from my hand.
We sprawl across each other and never get up again.