You Are Not My Eater

The room is puckered at the corners, plastic rains down in shreds. The whole room takes a deep breath, we're starting to seep through the floor. My dreams are far from reach and your words of doubt push them further and further away, until they get sucked up in the vaccum of space. My ears bleed from the secrets she cupped with her hands, guiding them gently. You pick away at me until there is nothing left, no hope, no worth, no desire to be anything more than what you keep slipping into your sentences, that you think go undetected. But I watch you out of the corner of my eye, breathe a little softer to hear every beat of your heart. I creep behind you just to study your elongated limbs swing in formulas that I cannot unfold. You complicate the air around you and make it impossible for me to exist in the same vicinity as you. I lay dormant like a virus.