Sapphirism

tw: abuse, death, trauma how seasonal, her love is. the summer has sucked it dry. you chase the shimmering mirage of perfection, running until your lungs burn, your muscles scream, until black spots dance in your vision. your eyes sting from the sand in her words, leaking salt. her fist clenches around your heart. she carves in wounds to match her hurt. you love her, despite. you love her, because. you love her, and it is your ruin. you do not choose yourself. but you're selfish, just a little. you see, she loves someone she wants you to be. you wish you could be that person. but you don't allow her to chisel you into perfection because individuality. the nerve of you. you recall that lignocaine summer when you loved her with closed lids. love was always conditional, but the terms were easier before the update. now you hide like a rat in the bathroom and insulate the pain with tears, like water cleansing a bloody scrape. your chest heaves. your mouth gasps for air. you recall t