all this while

Everytime I get jealous, I feel this strain in my heart, a heat behind my eyes and a pressure between my jaw.
Then I speak and my voice starts to make the sides of my throat hurt.
And I feel entirely broken.
Like goo and elbow bones all jutting out.

Sometimes your eyes tell me things.
Things that cannot be confirmed, things that are unspoken- which is your favourite way of expressing yourself.
And sometimes I see these things.
And these things are true.
And I love them.

I find it absolutely amusing and annoying at the same time how I make people talk about their feelings.
My questions get crazy blunt.
Like "how do you feel about me exactly?"
And I appreciate it when people tell me the truth.
It shows that they care.
They care that I care.
That's why I'm so lucky to have you.
Although maybe I ____ you like a dead person now.
A memory.
You stand before me: bright-eyed, my favourite person, the child of the fiercest angel and the most gentle demon-
You are living but whatever we had
Is dead.
That's why we have to stop creating. I know that well but I cannot, I cannot.