I wore my heart
on my sleeve last year
with a touch of agony
and the depth of despair
in hopes that you would
somehow love me.

But desperation,
I hear,
has a strong scent;
and when mixed
with fear--
and you could sense it
clinging onto my every
spluttered word,
every painted red lips
I hope you'd gaze upon;
the shadow of my eyelashes
imprinted in my cheeks
and the sweet delirium
of your voice;
a echo in the morning,
a whisper at night.

Today I remember
a year ago
how dearly I loved you
and loathed myself.

Sometimes I get this feeling.
This feeling does not really have a name.
It is in the middle of my chest.
It is like my emotions are a rope.
The rope is strangling my heart.
It feels like it is about to explode
but it never does
It constricts my breathing and slows my thoughts
It almost hurts
Whenever I think of you
this feeling follows
All I want is for this feeling to go away
but at the same time
I need it
It reminds me I am alive.