you'd think loneliness would feel empty
but it is actually an immovable deadweight that lives right atop my sternum
crushing me into the bed until the numbness creeps into my torso.
it paralyzes my limbs,
shrinking my ribcage until my imprisoned heart isn't strong enough to keep time with the clock anymore

it is violent stillness
my fingers clutching my throat and
wanting to scream so loudly that my timid vocal chords,
so accustomed to mumbling and trying not to be heard,
simply can't accommodate the request
the desperation doesn't rip through my chest like sobs
but silently leaks out the corner of my eye

it is staring at the ceiling and dozing off and waking up and immediately closing my eyes again because i am so tired of remembering that i'm alone

and it is cold, so cold
shivering under three blankets
curling into myself and waiting for the day i am finally strong enough to turn off the vacancy sign on my front door

i am clay mold shapeshifter, sand through your outstretched fingers
and i can be pretty much anything you want
be happy
be calm
be helpful
just don't ask me if i can belong
it hits a little too close to the home i haven't been able to find yet

lately i've been feeling a bit out of place no matter where i turn
a cheap puzzle piece not sanded down quite right
or just forcing itself into things i was never made for

or maybe the truth is that i don't fit in because i have no shape at all
i have become spineless pushover 'just have a ******* opinion for once' doormat under your feet
and i wake up from dreams of a world very similar to this one
where the only difference is that the people there look me in the eyes

but can't you see that the human race is my heartbeat
this fist in my chest is not strong enough on its own
and if it were pumping only for me
it would've stopped a long time ago

alas, what a curse
to be born with the need to give away every piece of my cracked heart
yet even as a whole,
it is too small to move anyone else's.

if they say the more love you give away,
the more you get back
then why do i feel like i've been wringing myself dry
trying to fill up your sponge heart

and you accept each small drop with proper manners
a polite smile, a cordial thank you
but it isn't until i am too empty to stand
that you finally turn back to see how little of me is left
and realize i might need some strength of my own too

it's not like the love isn't there;
sometimes i think i can see the outline of bruises on your chest
because you seem to be all heart with no understanding of how to give it away

then again, i always had this self-destructive need to throw everything i have at anyone who gives me the time of day
so is this just my fault again?
for trying too hard to win you over
i'm sorry, it's only because i feel like i keep losing
to the computer screen
to new ideas for inventions
to more interesting friends
to convenience

and it kills me a little more every time you walk away
knowing the next time i'll see you is when it's practical and can be pencilled into your tetris block schedule

i don't know how much longer i can do this
and i would probably cry more about it but i don't have any energy left

a brief confession:
until now,
i have written my best friend into a storybook heroine, untouchable
and our friendship one of puzzle pieces falling in place perfectly
i love her beyond words
and love makes you romanticize everything
but i want to show the truth
because incredibly, it is even more brilliant

sure, we have the happy story of meeting in summer camp, bonding over crafts and a shared love of books
and in most ways, what we have is simple and pure and obvious
but in all honesty, our true bond was not born in beauty or the sunlight
it was born ******, fighting, and dangling by its umbilical cord over a bottomless abyss

see, we were first stitched together in battle
opposite sides of a wound that drained us of tears and dark poetry
emptying pens stolen from a slate-eyed boy whose skin never seemed to be fully closed
we were surgery in a brightly lit, white-walled classroom
taking turns as his dialysis machine
until one day, we finally looked up
and realized he was stealing all our oxygen

on the homefront we were dissection victims,
perfectly preserved insides laid out for the world to see
so that no one would think to look for the secrets hidden beneath our sharp tongues
we were ***** donor and receptor,
and she gave me bone-marrow strength
in return for my rib-cage to cradle her overworked heart
both of us breathing heavily from the same pair of tired lungs

we were bandages on each other's wrists,
painfully tight tourniquets to keep our souls from leaking out with the blood
we were interlocked fingers between our deathbeds
and silence on either end of the telephone
too afraid to speak the truth aloud
but even more afraid of hanging up
instead letting our quietness drown out the silence

other times, we were barely contained sobs in a 2am voicemail

we were long periods of no contact
passive-aggressive silence
bottled anger that was too heavy to carry for long
over reasons we no longer remember

yes,
our connection was held together by bruised knuckles, scarred skin
but though it was often ugly and rough and messy
it also saved my life

you weren't really supposed to become such a big part of my life
the girl i was a year ago would've scoffed at the idea of spending all my time with one person
yet here I am, blinking away sleep in your bed that feels more like home than mine
and every moment i spend with you is slowly proving wrong everything i once thought about love
i used to scribble notes and doodle hearts and sing dramatically as if it were all a dazzling fairytale, a dream come true, the end
and then somewhere along the way, i dismissed it for the same reason
but i am learning that it's a little more complicated than that

because i love how i can still get mad at you
but never for too long because i can't stand the way your eyes dim when you're unhappy
how we can argue for days about the right way to wash dishes but not feel jealous about hanging out with other people

i love how your eyes change colors as often as the weather
from spring green to earthy brown to a forest blend of the two
how i swoon when you wear that blue tie with your three-piece suit
but also when you throw on a dark v-neck and jeans

i love how we can switch from mindlessly watching cartoons to spending too many frustrated hours on the crossword in the daily newspaper
how we really really can't dance but still do it anyway
and how dinner together might mean a three-course meal or a bowl of cereal, but i savor it either way

i love how you know me better than anyone else
before we met, i was a perfectly sculpted mask
weaving stories like an open book so that no one bothered to look closer
but you found the invisible ink on the pages
reading meaning in places i didn't even know were hidden
then learning how to unravel the chaos of my thoughts
and i still remember the first time i let my guard down
the night i accidentally spoke the words aloud:
"there are too many voices in my head."
nothing felt safer than hearing you whisper back,  "i know."

i love how you have seen me at my worst and somehow continue looking at me with stars in your eyes
how you hold me without saying anything while i try not to cry (and fail miserably)
how you laugh so hard when i trip that you end up running into a pole
how we exchange embarrassing stories almost like a competition
and now i know that all the times i kept repeating i'm fine
i'd just been waiting for someone like you to say,
"no, you're not, and that's okay"

i rarely say it, but i love how you love
how deeply you are capable of feeling and how hard you try
i've always tried to watch out for everyone but often at the cost of intensity
while you care about things more strongly than i can even understand

i'll admit that the one thing i don't love
is how i get lonely too easily now
and it probably isn't healthy that i need you so much
but no one ever said this had to be good for me

maybe love only breaks us so we are stronger when it finally pieces us back together
and i love you through it all
despite it all
because of it all
with or without it all

i. lately there's been this tight feeling in my lungs like i'm drowning
thoughts of homework, meetings, and most of all, crippling inadequacy
filling up my chest like seawater
but within these metaphorical thunderstorms, you have been the hurricane's eye

ii. there are no right words to convey the utter serenity of seeing the sun light up your face each morning
and nothing feels safer than when i am curled up against you
our bodies intertwining as we shake with quiet laughter

iii. i know i haven't been the easiest person to love
and you've grown a lot these past few weeks, trying to keep me sane
or maybe it's just that you finally get the chance to play protector in the midst of my daily mental breakdowns
either way, you keep proving that you are much too good for me

iv. i'm sorry this is also a preemptive apology
as much as i hate to admit it, i'm scared it's only going to get worse
but i promise i'm really trying

v. i love you so much. my brain isn't creative enough to shroud it in pretty words and nonsensical analogies right now, but i hope you get the idea.