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There are butterflies in your belly, But you act surprised, And that amuses me. Did you forget? Maybe hope that things would change? Because you didn’t, And neither did she. But you act surprised, And that amuses me. Your cheeks hurt from smiling, And your abs from laughing, But you act surprised, And that amuses …
Incase we don’t have tomorrow, I want you to know Today is the best day of my life Simply because I know you exist In a space where I can call home. A
A paintbrush and some water That’s all I need, All I ask for. A paintbrush and some water, That’s all I require To explain what’s stirring up in my heart, To map out my desire. My happiness, my joy My god sent golden boy. A paintbrush and some water, To draw lines both bent and …
They call me crazy Not out loud Not even in hushed voices They’re afraid I’d hear their every sound Afraid I would know... They call me crazy In their heads, On the internet I know these things I know everything I feel like I know... They call me crazy Because my eyes dart around And …
They speak of love like a force, An entity of its own, Enveloping mere mortals. Possessing them, Taking over in ways that failed to appeal to me, And I believed. But this, This is nothing like I envisioned. This is soothing, Like cool breeze on a warm summer’s night. Calming, Like a drag of Mary …
V. It’s not about you, Never been, never will be. I know you secretly wonder if I was the same way with him, Yes. Worse. But for you, I tried, To unpeel myself from the wall, Etched in closer till our personal space overlapped. I practiced hugs which weren’t identical to two sumo wrestlers coming …
IV. I guess if I wasn’t so broken, I would enjoy hugs. They’re sickeningly invasive, uncomfortably restrictive. A gesture which intellectuals should have eradicated years ago. Yet, it’s oddly satisfying...for half a second. But for you, I endure. A.
III. If you promise to hear me out, I’ll explain, Why emotional responses are unhurried. Why I’m numb and expressionless initially. Truth is, I’m not cold. It just takes me time to recollect all my memories of similar incidents I’ve encountered, In movies, tv shows, novels and friends. I sift through the emotions they expressed, …
Continue reading "Living With An Emotional Deficiency – III"
II. I’m not heartless, Just fighting my demons. Just hurting and healing, And healing and hurting. Just stuck in this vicious cycle of hope and helplessness, Yet, I remain expressionless. Get me out of here. A.
I. How best can I explain, That I struggle with vulnerability, Like people struggle with addiction. There are days I cry about my inability to connect, About ‘dismissal’ being my immediate response. I hurt when my body jerks back once in contact with another, Knowing it is impossible for mammals to survive without body contact. …
