Finally you call me.
I take the first flight to Paris and meet up with you. It’s been so long, where have you been hiding all this time?
But he’s there. He’s following you. I join him in following you, as you peak into expensive restaurants and bars and restaurants. I can’t ever afford to take you there, I think and am reminded how I’m not supposed to be here, not with you, that I’m from the wrong side of the town, I’m the loner and outsider with no future, you’re the shiny and beautiful, a rising star, you have mascara around your soul and your soul is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, grey as ice in late winter, and him, he is the one that should be here, not me, he grabs your hand and you look so happy.
You’re walking in your high heels, you take me out of town. You turn into me and finally, finally, you lean in and say the words I’ve needed to hear for so long.
You push me to the ground and I’m not sure how to react, I’m excited and you fall on top of me, but you’re holding a knife that pierces me as you fall. I’m bleeding and I can’t breathe, I try to leave, but I fall back down, bleeding.
The next morning you’re still there. You’re looking at me from the side of the bed, I’m still bleeding but you ignore it.
It’s always you, everything we do is always for you. I’m not there. I follow you like a lost puppy, and when you pull me up and tie my wounds, I touch your lean little hips and feel the fabric of your bodysuit against my skin.
I hug you and you barely hug me back, but I can tell things have shifted, we leave and I follow you.
I follow you where ever you go, until you turn around and board the plane. It disappears into the distance, I can’t follow you there, because once you’re gone you can’t come back.
I’m sinking, suddenly I’m standing in the water so cold that I can’t feel my legs, the water is blue, and gets darker as I sink. I imagine your soul and how all I ever did was for you.
Out of the blue, and into the black, we will never die.