We Are Collapsed in the Act of Just Being Here



In the pendulum swings of her heart, the days of our love tear into pieces and float on puddles by the side of the road where we argued the night before last. In the rings around her eyes, there’s a different story to be told in each one, but I’ve let my temper get the better of me and have stormed off in the opposite direction. She’s crying. Collapsing. She calls after me but I keep going not wanting to hear her voice. Just by speaking she’s lying, and I’m done giving myself to another who cares only when it’s too late. Walking past the Chinese we order from; I remember the last time we were inside. Sheltering from the rain, we hadn’t intended to get anything, but she’d pleaded despite us having no money, and I’d given in when she fluttered those eyes of hers. Now there are other lovers stood where we were, each with stories of their own just waiting to unravel. So many lives with so much love and hate spiralling out of control whichever way you look; it’s enough to make you curse. Head down and marching the pavement, she tries calling but I throw my phone in the river to the right of me that’s burst its banks. Regretting my actions as soon as it plops into the murky body of water, I scream out of frustration. Leaning on the steel railing that runs the length of the river, I shake my head while worrying about how much it will cost to get another one. Catching up and watching me from a dozen feet away, she slowly walks forwards not sure what my reaction will be. Wiping her eyes with the sleeve of her jacket, she looks so sorrowful and distraught as the tears keep coming. I pity the sight of her, as she does of me. With cars going past speeding to outcomes unknown, a light rain falls as she moves one step at a time until she places her hand in mine. Swans gathering the other side of the rail in anticipation of food that doesn’t come, the night transforms into something the world will never know.

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