Skin Over Bones

i lay there — bare skin on your comforter, watching you leave the room. you said you’d be back in a minute or two. three minutes later, i heard you laughing. i stayed. another fifteen. cheeks flushed, not from warmth but something like shame. i wiped my face and told myself it isn’t healthy to only speak to your partner. i told my brain to be radical. to get up. to remember who i was before your voice started sounding like home. but when i got back to my room, i broke. cheeks streaked, eyes burning, knees on the floor. too cold to cry on, but i did anyway. and all i could think was — why wasn’t i worth a conversation? how could you leave me alone so soon after tracing my skin with your fingertips, whispering confessions making me blush and squirm i want you to have a life outside this. i do. but why does ours live mostly in my body and not in your words? how do i say that without sounding like too much? without sounding like i need too much? without making you look at me like i’m a storm you don’t have the tools to survive? most of all — how do i bring this up without hurting you? and how long before not saying it starts hurting me?

YG

unreliable narrator

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