The Cord

we’re connected by a cord
it’s heavy, stretchy,
and smells like a vanilla bottle mist
it attached the night you first lay next to me
and it strengthened the night we first kissed
it kept you from leaving
and kept me from seeing
the reason why we
never said goodbye.

but we didn’t want to
and so the cord stretched taut and thin
i worried it’d snap
but you bounced right back into me
it kept me from leaving
and kept you from seeing
the reason why we
never said goodbye.

the cord shared us beds, meals, and tv shows
it kept us safe in the winters when we almost blew apart
but the cord started to lose its scent at some point
and it attached to our tissue
it kept us from leaving
and kept us from seeing
the reason why we
never said goodbye.

now the cord has grown ligament
it’s heavy on my spinal
i can feel the muscle contort when you shift in your sleep
when it stretches, it cracks
like a face made of wax
in a room where the happy is fixed forever

we don’t speak of the cord
we pretend that we’re bored
if we do, then we’ll try to unsever
but it’s not what we want
i would rather be gaunt
in a room where the happy is fixed forever

so it keeps us from breathing
and keeps us believing
that we’ll never say
goodbye.