something is rotting inside of me.
i feel its heaviness spread from the centre of my chest
i know it is not my heart, for it sits right behind my sternum.
but it has made its way there.
and through my blood spreads its crushing static
it follows me. the decay.
i am never alone.
even when my door is locked and my window is bolted and there is nobody beside me.

i fear i am losing my mind, losing my grip.
i fear more so that i am not, and i am completely within myself,
and this is myself.
i cannot touch someone for too long,
in case i am catching
and i infect them with whatever is causing my skin to hang from my bones in ways that do not fit

but my lord i am so lonely, and i am so tired
though it seems all i do is sleep,
and i am begging for someone to hold me long enough to push my muscles back into a shape that looks human

i am afraid i will ruin everything i love because i do not know how to love it.
and i will be back where i have always been, alone at a party, with people at every inch around me saying nothing.

i knew, when the sky finally cleared, that the rain would come again.
but the sunlight was warm and easy,
so i did not seal my roof tiles.
and now the buckets on the kitchen floor are full
and the water has nowhere else to go.