the edge between us

And here I lie in ruin, undone by you, who have never laid hands upon me. No fingers have claimed me. No mouth has marked me. Yet I am wounded. You keep us nameless, as though silence were mercy. As though an unseen blade does not still draw blood. You stand across miles of air, and still you strike true. A word withheld, a pause too long, and my heart yields. It would take so little for you to vanish. A door shut. A light extinguished. And I would be left holding the echo of you like steel still warm. I feel the edge between us. It rests against my throat, steady in your hand. But steel remembers pressure. And what presses into me must press back into you. So if these words sting, if something in your chest tightens, know this. I did not bleed alone.