With him,
thousands of knots
clog her throat
as the words choke her.
Without him,
she has no words,
no voice,
nothing worth saying.
With him,
she is burning,
no longer with a physical hunger
but instead with
an anger born of agony.
Without him,
she is dead inside,
soulless,
invisible,
gone.
With him.
Without him.
How did it boil down to just two distinctively
depleting options?
For either way, she loses someone.
She used to be someone with him.
But now she is just…
She bites her lip,
wondering who the
someone is now.
