Black

The last time I suffered for you I made a commitment that left me sick.

In the way that if you sneezed I was your echo, we were a mirror and a needle behind each other. My friends told me that I was terribly obvious about how much I loved you, so I was embarrassed. 

I had this fear that when I saw you that you would see it in my eyes. And thus you would know that my heart was spelling your name and that if you were crying my soul was breaking.

It was that it had reached the point of madness. 

Nothing was pink, it was multicoloured, it was black and you were the centre.

You would run fast and I already knew the traps to reach you because my lungs could not breathe without you close. And we weren't an addiction, we weren't a bomb with the titanic, we were a virus. 

One who locked us in small rooms and wished that we kissed and that the explosion be born from us. 

But we were too much. With your fingers burned on my hand, with my scarf on your neck and your words trapped on my lips.

In that, you laughed at fifteen countries away from me and I was laughing without being able to stop. Because we were harder than love, we were the Russian roulette that never came with our bullet. Even though we were on a precipice that counted three and fell like one.

T.A.