in a strange turn of events, you're still here.
i don't take kitchen shears to my hair the same day you tell me i'd look better with my hair grown out. the long hair doesn't make me feel like rapunzel like it used to; while i'm sleeping it makes a noose.
i don't feel ill at the thought of being near you. it doesn't feel like your hands are wrapped around my neck when they're actually in my own. your fingers barely skimming my back don't slice me open and i don't bleed on the floor.
i don't listen to break-up songs and feel solace course through my veins. i don't listen to love songs and think of someone else, anyone else.
i don't feel like i'm drowning when your name accompanies a notification on my phone. i don't consider blocking your number and leaving town if it meant never having to look you in the eyes again.
because of that, you're still here. i'm smiling so hard my teeth crumble out of my mouth and land on the floor. you don't notice. i don't either.
