i love you
-not in that way-
that's the worst part
because even with your hands searching for the light switch
even with you trying reaching out and sending texts
i still feel myself sinking beneath something enormous,
something alive under my skin
and i can't move
i can't reply i know anything i say will be dry like i don't care, but i do
it's just
the dark inside me has learned my shape
it wears me like wet clothing
i can feel it stretching my ribs apart millimeter by millimeter,
threading itself through my organs
like roots splitting through concrete
at night my body doesn't feel sealed correctly
it feels unzipped.
i swear i can feel things moving underneath my flesh,
slow turns and spasms,
like nests of insects curling inside my muscles,
chewing patiently through tendon and vein.
my spine aches like it's growing wrong
sometimes i imagine it unfolding upward,
vertebrae stacking and cracking and pushing against the back of my neck
until something sharp finally tears through
i touch my chest just to make sure i'm still closed shut
some mornings my jaw feels unhinged,
hanging loose like it wants to split wider,
wide enough to let all the rot crawl out at once
and my reflection looks less like me every day
its smile stretches too long
its eyes look cloudy and swollen,
like they've been soaking in dark water for years
sometimes i look too quickly
and it feels like the thing in the mirror moves a second before i do
i'm so tired of pretending this body belongs to me
tired of dragging around bones that feel sharpened from the inside,
like they're trying to carve their way free
every breath feels infected
every heartbeat sounds swollen and sick,
wet and uneven,
like something dying in the walls
and underneath all of it
there's this hole opening wider and wider inside me
not pain
not sadness
it's a huge starving emptiness pulling
at my organs,
pulling at my thoughts,
pulling until i feel parts of myself peeling loose and dropping into it
i think eventually there won't be enough of me left to come back
maybe one day i'll finally fall all the way through myself,
leave behind nothing but an empty skin still pretending to breathe
i hate how comforting thats been sounding to me
May 15
May 15, 2026 at 6:52 AM UTC
i love you
-not in that way-
that's the worst part
because even with your hands searching for the light switch
even with you trying reaching out and sending texts
i still feel myself sinking beneath something enormous,
something alive under my skin
and i can't move
i can't reply i know anything i say will be dry like i don't care, but i do
it's just
the dark inside me has learned my shape
it wears me like wet clothing
i can feel it stretching my ribs apart millimeter by millimeter,
threading itself through my organs
like roots splitting through concrete
at night my body doesn't feel sealed correctly
it feels unzipped.
i swear i can feel things moving underneath my flesh,
slow turns and spasms,
like nests of insects curling inside my muscles,
chewing patiently through tendon and vein.
my spine aches like it's growing wrong
sometimes i imagine it unfolding upward,
vertebrae stacking and cracking and pushing against the back of my neck
until something sharp finally tears through
i touch my chest just to make sure i'm still closed shut
some mornings my jaw feels unhinged,
hanging loose like it wants to split wider,
wide enough to let all the rot crawl out at once
and my reflection looks less like me every day
its smile stretches too long
its eyes look cloudy and swollen,
like they've been soaking in dark water for years
sometimes i look too quickly
and it feels like the thing in the mirror moves a second before i do
i'm so tired of pretending this body belongs to me
tired of dragging around bones that feel sharpened from the inside,
like they're trying to carve their way free
every breath feels infected
every heartbeat sounds swollen and sick,
wet and uneven,
like something dying in the walls
and underneath all of it
there's this hole opening wider and wider inside me
not pain
not sadness
it's a huge starving emptiness pulling
at my organs,
pulling at my thoughts,
pulling until i feel parts of myself peeling loose and dropping into it
i think eventually there won't be enough of me left to come back
maybe one day i'll finally fall all the way through myself,
leave behind nothing but an empty skin still pretending to breathe
i hate how comforting thats been sounding to me