Is not equivalent to a broken leg.
Who came up with that analogy?
Someone who hasn't experienced either
Seems the only probability.

It's far more akin to a giant spasm,
Contorting your leg against your will,
And stopping it seems highly unatural,
And each doctor prescribes different pills.

Nobody has fluctuating broken legs,
Or fractured limbs that cause them to count
The precise number of steps they take,
And despair if it's the wrong amount,

Or healing bones that turn reality
Into hallucinatory nightmares,
Or make you stay awake all week,
And start berating chairs.

But the worst of that analogy
(It drives me quite insane!),
Is that broken legs are quick to heal,
And cause a lot less pain.

The first time your arms wrapped around me
It was like my lost soul finally found a home

The mess inside didn’t intimidate me
I always loved cleaning up souls like yours

Inside the closet I found vanity and greed
Uncertainty and unpredictability
But I decided to stay

I bought lamps to brighten up the rooms
And opened the curtains when they weren’t enough
Determined to see you smile

I thought you were building a home inside of me too
But you were really just pitching a tent

You knew all along you weren’t there to stay
All you wanted was to collect rent from me
Every night in your bedroom

When my lease was up you kicked me out
And I was left more lost than before

I will never waste my time fixing up a house again

Sometimes I wish I could cry forever,
Because once is never enough for all
Of my emotions, all my bitter, selfish emotions.
I want to feel the waterfall on my face, struggle to breathe,
Disgust myself as the tears pool up on my neck.
I want to curl up in a protective ball, shut out the world,
And just let go.
Sometimes I wish I could cry
F
     o
           r
                e
                      v
                           e
                                 r
                                       .
                                            .
                                                 .

I mourn(ed) you in pieces
like all others I love.
Denial was brief -
how could I imagine it any differently?
Anger was flashing and red-hot.
Some still remains.
I asked God why
as if I would receive an answer.
I did.
I was cast into a pit,
notably of my own making
as it has always been.
I have reached outward,
but maybe
maybe I'll just stay here.