you cannot explain why you feel unlovable, but you’re
smart enough to know to fill this emptiness by searching for it
on crowded streets and night clubs
it doesn’t have to be beautiful, you tell yourself.
it just has to suffice for the time being.
you are infested with heartbreak, but this word
escapes your vocabulary. or is it denial?
you fill your days with coffee, refill your nights with alcohol,
but you’ve been intoxicated with loneliness since you were young,
you do not understand sobriety, you never have.
“take a break,” they tell you.
“what happens when you were born with scars?”
most do not understand the paradoxes they construct
the more you tell yourself you do not need love,
the more you crave it. you scoff at this.
you do not need to surrender to love.
love does not make you more vulnerable, for you have already
created your own hell. there could be nothing worse
than the pain you cause yourself.
admit it darling, there is a voice that screams,
“want me, hold me, won’t you please
love me _deeply _intensely _honestly”
you utter it very quietly but it got lost in the bed sheets
you still somehow invest too much but you do not know this
until they never come back.
didn’t your parents tell you to not bite off more than you can chew?
the void in your heart is now starting to show,
do we want someone to seduce us or do we want someone
to sedate us from a lifetime of pain? is there a difference?
are we not only trying to be loving in order to be
lovable? why is it that when we find someone who understands us,
we stop in our tracks _breathless _speechless _frozen
and then the clutter of our heart seems to clear
your body is made to be touched
your heart is meant to be felt
isn’t everything we do for recognition, for someone to say, “i hear you”
aren’t we all dying for someone to say, ”i love you, too”