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Aug 2023
I feel it radiating in my finger tips
While a terror-stricken quiver
Turns in my stomach
And ascends to my throat
Until dread comes coursing out of my mouth
And shame soaks my cheeks.

Sometimes it seems
That I’m made of glass
And the resonant frequency
Of my foreboding observations
Is enough to make me fracture,
Sending broken pieces flying.

Now, my love I hope you know
That I’m doing everything in my power
To keep all my pieces together.
But doctors, pills, paintbrushes, and extra employment
Are not a substitute for your love.

It’s absence leaves a crack in my foundation
That nothing else can repair.
It’s shape, it’s depth
Are as exceptional as you.
So what crawls out of that cavern
Is a monster of seclusion,
Come to torture me with worry.

I had hoped that your love could reach me
From an ocean away.
I hoped that the fissure would not form,
And your love would not follow you
Across the sea.
But it has
And I’m splintering into ugly, pathetic pieces.

I know I require more than most,
But I know that what I require exists out there
In someone eager to give it,
Joyfully, lovingly.
You promised to be that someone
But your promises take no shape
Except for in the letters
From which they are spelled.

So I will not keep begging for your love,
I will not keep letting your insufficient affection
Lead me to the edge of delirium.
I will not continue to weep
Over the inconsideration you have given me.

I know that what I require is out there
Bursting from someone
Who cannot help but to love me
In exactly the way I need to be loved.
Liz
Written by
Liz  26/Other
(26/Other)   
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