Natalia Vela

tell her you love her, but tell her you loved me black and blue.

Tthe hangover began to feel more like a withdrawal from her. I didn’t understand what any of that was about.

was it misplaced affection? did you know i mistook it for medicine? did you not know too much processed love can ruin a person?  

i don’t give in, but three nights ago i said your name over and over until i could breathe.

I hope you let go of trying to control everything.

There’s another world where I don’t feel like this. Where my heart fits into my chest right and I’m not terrified of anything that makes it feel alive. But I live in a world where I stopped being able to tell the difference between heartbeat and heartache. 

I wish I knew what you were saying. I wish I knew what you were thinking.

Am I dreaming? 

Cigarette smoke. That nicotine-stained thumb. Your second-hand mouth.

I know I love you because what I feel for you sometimes is too much for my body to hold.

It does not matter how it begins. The ending is always the same.

I remember the first time my body tried to tell me something.