Love, I managed to stop the bleeding.
You were bleeding out and out.
All over the place. Didn’t you notice? I still
feel like I’m leaking somewhere. You got sick
in the night. I think our ammunition
is running low. I’m scared. Who knows
whether we will last another night. Who knows?
But who cares? The day is already bleeding
in and see how the light is its own ammunition?
The future can go hang itself. Don’t shout.
I’m not. I’m not, I promise. You’re just sick
and photosensitive. Come here. Hold me still.
Just for a moment. I can’t keep my hands still
and the light hurts my eyes. My nose —
Sssh, it’s all right. It’s just bruised. I feel sick.
I never felt this sick before. How do you know the bleeding
isn’t internal? I might be dying from the inside out.
You’re not. You’ll live through this. Stop looking at the ammunition.
I can’t help it. I want to leave. The ammunition
won’t be enough. We’re fucked. We might still
have a chance if we move now. We can’t go out.
We don’t know what’s out there. No one knows.
There’s no one left! No one in the bleeding
world now apart from us. They all got sick
and died and came back and died again. Sick
like I am getting sick now. We need more ammunition.
We’re all alone. But isn’t that — look I’m bleeding
again — what you wanted all along? Jesus, I’m still
fucking bleeding. Make it stop! Pinch your nose
and listen to me. I love you. But we can’t go out —
And I love you. I really do. And I never wanted out,
not really, but fuck, what if I am sick?
Then what? What if this isn’t just a bloody nose
and — then we have the ammunition.
It’s not enough. It’ll be enough to hold us still.
Tell me something nice. Distract me from my bleeding.
I love you. But we’re out of ammunition.
I love you. But I‘m sick of standing still.
I love you. But my nose won’t stop bleeding.
Laura Voivodeship was born in the UK and currently teaches English in the Middle East.