right next to you

right next to you.

ELIZABETH CHENG

the world is dark,

blanketed by a deep, painful numbing.

it’s just one motion

over and over again—

clutching, holding, hugging.

having each other.

 

my nails are too long,

and i’m gripping so hard

that your skin is turning red.

it’s so hot and squished and cramped and horrible,

but none of that matters.

 

our tears begin to mix,

forming a river of angst.

our bodies become one under the water,

connected by grief and fury.

 

it’s flowing uncontrollably now

and i don’t know if i’m still breathing,

or whether i’m even alive.

but the drowning is okay

because it washes out the previous despair.

 

so i welcome the new agony,

almost for relief,

calmed by knowing that

at the end of it all,

 

i will still be right next to you,

and you will forever hold on to me.