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untitled (@inkskinned via tumblr)

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one time he and i were sitting in bed and i said “where do you feel stuff?” and he said “what do you mean” and i said, “here is anxiety” and pointed to my bottom left rib where the spiders start. he pointed to his throat. “it’s here for me.” 

i keep anger in my breastbone, he holds it in his hands. i feel sadness on my shoulders, he feels it in his lungs. 

we play this game until we come to love, and i realize that i am terrified (jugular vein) of what might come. what if it is not the same. what if he feels it somewhere else, what if it is just a flash fire, not the slow burn, what if it is congealing in one place instead of radiating, i try to change topics, flight response (sternum)

he takes my hands in his and puts them over his ribs and says, “everywhere, everywhere, like a sun is trying to escape me, like i am being consumed and you are filling up where used to be empty.” i say, “don’t be ridiculous humans are 99% empty space,” i nervous laugh (spiders down spine), he holds his gaze with me. 

“everywhere,” he repeats.

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