dynamics of heartbreak
your distance, his proximity,
the repetition of releasing
hormones and horrors,
and honey-colored eyes,
and hope.

i enter the car and
he looks at me. kisses me
before we walk in, opens
the door, brushes my leg
under the table, butterflies
warm and sooth and scare.

my heart breaks when
it's supposed to be solid,
when i'm supposed to be
happy and whole and ******
and orgasming and screaming
and strong

my heart breaks when i am kissed,
when i tell my sister i love her,
when my dreams come true;
the edges are sharp in my chest;
i don't think it will ever not hurt
i don't think i will ever not be broken