⠀⠀⠀⠀They did try to help.
⠀⠀⠀⠀My friends and family.
⠀⠀⠀⠀My lover. My doctors.
⠀⠀⠀⠀The authorities. Strangers.
⠀⠀⠀⠀They all tried to help me.
⠀⠀⠀⠀They could see what you had done.
⠀⠀⠀⠀They could tell what you could do.
⠀⠀⠀⠀They could imagine the worst.
⠀⠀⠀⠀So they did try.
⠀⠀⠀⠀And I let them try.
⠀⠀⠀⠀Why not? What harm could they do?
⠀⠀⠀⠀Who knows, maybe it might have worked.
⠀⠀⠀⠀Maybe I would have stopped hurting.
⠀⠀⠀⠀Maybe I would have eventually healed.
⠀⠀⠀⠀Maybe the scars would have faded.
⠀⠀⠀⠀Maybe I would have forgotten.
⠀⠀⠀⠀Maybe I would have stopped counting days.
⠀⠀⠀⠀Maybe I would have stopped looking up.
⠀⠀⠀⠀Maybe I would have stopped expecting.
⠀⠀⠀⠀Maybe I would have stopped aging.
⠀⠀⠀⠀Maybe the magic would still be there for me.
⠀⠀⠀⠀Maybe I wouldn’t keep thinking about us.
⠀⠀⠀⠀Maybe I wouldn’t keep hurting myself.
⠀⠀⠀⠀But dark windows are empty for me now.
⠀⠀⠀⠀Open waters are still for me now.
⠀⠀⠀⠀Even my own body is silent, absent its rhythm.
⠀⠀⠀⠀I can still feel you in me, by how big the hole is.
⠀⠀⠀⠀They don’t know me, not without you.
⠀⠀⠀⠀They can’t tell what’s what, not with you gone.
⠀⠀⠀⠀They watch above the ancient stones and see nothing.
⠀⠀⠀⠀They should do me a favor and stop.
⠀⠀⠀⠀There is no future. There is no you.
⠀⠀⠀⠀There is nothing to believe. There is no you.
⠀⠀⠀⠀There is no me. No you.