It grows like a fungus. The spores spread, floating to sit on the surface of every moment, every memory. Noxious, dark caps blossom, obscuring reality and paralysing me.

cut away the clouds
so stars may split my eyelids
open, finally.

Spinning
Spiralling
Spitting nails
Chewing til I cut new teeth
Sharp as broken bulbs
Ready to tear flesh from bone

panic rips through lipstick and lace
digging into soft flesh
etching its name onto my bones
over
and
over

When I met him, it seemed like every decision I had ever made was orchestrated by the cosmos to make sure I collided with him. Every word he spoke soaked through my skin and seeped into my bones; noxious, intoxicating. We spent hours with limbs and lips intertwined, whispering in the dark; and I swear to God I will never know what home feels like again.