I have spent the silent spaces
trying to define us.
I have lingered on the audio,
I have circled every pixel.
But neither sound nor image
tells me the secret.

We dip in and out
of darkness,
we step in and out
of light.

I have these mountains
growing down my spine;
slowly crushed 
by the ceaseless questions
but never crawling away.

And you stay too:
here with me.
This isn't healthy,
we say,
I can't breathe,
we say.
But we wilt without
each other.

I wish I could wrap the truth
in fog,
wind it up in ghostly sheets.
I flick the flashlight
again and again,
looking for the strength
to live without you.

I'd rather die.
I almost did.

Goodbye means nothing
between us.
It's been said so many
times before.
And each time one look,
one kiss, one touch
and we surrender.

This constant fight;
stay or go, stay or go?
But it's not that simple.

We press pause,
we hide in each other's arms.
I let you lift the mountains
for a little while,
place them on your bedside table.

We speak of freedom
but are poisoned by jealousy.
Three years of being
everything
and we don't know how
to live anymore.

This would be so much easier
if you weren't
my first love.