We Were by Raheela

we are walking through monotonous conversation

taking sips of         breath           that dries your throat with every ‘so…’ ‘how…’ ‘have you…’

have you’s such as

have you been keepingsleeping well?

you are speaking in the same pitch as my breathing. my last meal which was early this morning is swinging in my stomach back and forth.

i want to ask if you have new friends

and if any of them have double jointed body parts

bones that go in any direction, that don’t get in the way.

unlike my own.

a young boy with a face full of veinsspider webs

approaches us

warning us of the route ahead . the bridge is not in use

the wood has been rotting for years

‘no one comes around here anymore’.

why are you here?

‘i live here.’

in flats. houses. same jeans. libraries. playgrounds. people.

‘we should go back.’

we should definitely keep going.

i want to pluck the      lens       from your eyes centre so we can

connect it to my laptop, remove the audio and voice over a new conversation.

the sky is darkening

with every pitch

that our voices drop.

there’s discomfort.  although you already know

that the melancholy hides nicely between my armpit and the side of my body because

i like to carry it all in my bag.

i am familiar with the taste of metal .  now i like it.  my bottom lip gets     caught      in my zipper.

i could almost

bite your cheek

and force down any technicalities down my throat

scraping my insides, a weight dragging itself way down . you do not realise that

i brought you outdoors so that this would not happen.

you want us to head back but i believe that

the boy                         might have been lying.

Raheela is an 18 year old asian girl from London. You can find her on twitter and instagram.