16

I hold him with a fist, squeezing him.

This beautiful boy,
he is everything.

I am nothing.  
I am going nowhere. 
I am dark 
without his electricity 
to keep my lights on or 
his breath
to give me shape. 

His heat,
His energy leaks from 
his violet edges and 
I drink it all and ask for more 
more more more. 

I love him 
without knowing how
I hold him 
with a fist 
squeezing him, 
and I'm sorry—
I can't let go, 
until 
he 
slips 
through 
my 
fingers. 

The void 
holds me 
with a fist, 
squeezes me.

I shrink again.

I look at my empty hands
and whisper: 
run. 

Run.