‘you’re late. again.’
I smile in acknowledgement of my
chemists worry, of the time he took
wondering when I was coming to
collect my medication this month.

‘you can’t starve your body like
this, what if something happened?’

we bonded over his mother and I
having the same name and now
he worries when I don’t come
on time (every month). ‘I’m really sorry’

people are always moving in or
out of my building, the stairs
rumble with the effort of keeping
this four storey building together,

like lovers that know they should
leave, this building attracts the
hopeless and the hopeful together.

‘I have feelings that are in your
direction’, I tell the boy with
blonde hair and kind eyes.

tomorrow maybe we will hold
hands and I’ll put my head in his
lap, or maybe we will stop this
journey before it gains any momentum.

the world is moving so fast,
and yet, I feel so small,

so insignificant.

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