My room is full of dusty air
I breathe it in, through my nose, down into my lungs.
The cloud of dust blackens my body one molecule at a time
It dances through my blood stream
Engulfs my limbs, my heart, and my brain.
My room forces me to think
My gruesome thoughts
They don’t halt or pause, constantly moving.
I often imagine the inner workings of my body
Just how rotten the dust has made me
What kind of life threatening disease
My room has left me.
My lover sometimes knocks on the door to my room
And when I don’t get up to answer they slip a note through the cracks
An open invitation to join them for a meal.
I peel my legs off of the ground, they’re too heavy to move on their own
And I question what uncertainties lie behind my door.
My room is comforting, familiar, even if it’s slowly killing me.
Your shadow peaks from under the door, the only version of you I can face
The light you radiate terrifies me.
Instead I slip a letter back to you under the door.
I tell you the dark is so vast it has taken comfort in my heart and made home in my brain.
Yet when you tell me you miss me
Miss my laughter, my smile, the way I used to sign off my post-it note letters with x’s and o’s
I can feel your light unclogging my lungs.
The door opens on its own, your eyes zoning in on mine before you engulf me in your light and
for the first time in months I breathe in clean air.
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