chin up

you haven't moved for thirty one minutes now.

your voice has gone lost somewhere in your throat, i'm starting to think that we should go looking for it, its dark in there. of the darkness, the swallowing, bewildering disappearance of light we both are aware, 
and we know that it lives behind our eyes and underneath our hair, and we shouldn't begin to compare this and that, because worry takes breath and we can't pay the air 

your arms have now buried your face in disguise,
while your heart shrinks to the size of a tennis ball
that's thrown around and kicked through the hall and forgotten somewhere in the corner of some wall,
the blanket wrapped around your body as if it could protect you from your insides, 
and the butterflies in your stomach have been murdered by all the world's misery
that leaves you no choice but to curl up to a tiny lump of nothingness 
and your being feels just as forgettable

you're still breathing,

but are you really?

the room, the bed,

it seems like a still life, as if we're a painting, not moving, not changing,

but not all emotions are trapped while framing the helpless attempt to avoid the unbearable
i'm still here. 

and i see them

with cuts underneath their eyes in twenty two shades of dangerous

and you have to hold your breath to check if your lungs even want to keep on doing it

silently hoping they don't?

but they do

and i see those monstrous creatures, with their claws tearing on you from all sides and places

where only hope divides in second chances,

but we wanted to find trees
as high as the rooftops of every city,
and on these branches we'd seize and capture 
this fulfilling breeze of 
a brand new chapter

so please hold on to that one thing, that one string of loveliness they haven't taken yet,
i know sadness is a danger, but believing is a threat 

how many times have they tested and tried

to stab me from behind

when i wasn't even a body,

and you pressed my head against your chest until they left,

until my lips were able to form a silent 'i love you'

and my fingertips drew little circles on your back,

because love is as infinite as pain.

when i was my nothing, i was still your everything,

and that goes both ways,

the best thing about me is you

so chin up
i believe in you too