I want to throw a tantrum.
Scream and shout
And kick things that don't need to be kicked.
The bones of my knuckles and hips poke out
A little     m  o  r  e
Than they did before.
My finger rings and hip-hugging jeans slip,
Not quite fitting the same way they had.
My skeleton creeping its way ever so slightly
Closer to the surface
Like it wants to get out
And   r u n    to    h e r.

Self-diagnosis: Lovesick.
Before, we were a storybook fairytale
But now our make-believe has something to latch onto.
Like a parasite.
More real
And more torturous
Than the existence of my past self.
I can't crave food the same way I can crave her touch.
My stomach shipwreck still feels the memories
Like they were yesterday's meal.
Has it really been a month?
My emotions ebb and flow
Along the shoreline of my consciousness.
Lovesickness courses through my veins
And through the vessel in my chest
Until I fall into a slumber
And in my dreams I have her once again
*If only for a moment.

he was tall
i am short
he was strong
i am weak
he was the football star
and homecoming king
i was the girl
who sat alone in the library
and kept her head down in the hallways
he was loved
i was invisible
but some how
he, of all people
saw me, and loved me.
he made me feel beautiful
and made me happy
he tickled and teased his way
into my chaotic mind
he kissed and charmed his way
into my heart
but he was the sun
and i am the moon
we weren't meant to collide
but when we did
the universe exploded
and the blast sent us our own ways
he left me
but i never left him.
i follow in his shadow
glimpses of his iridescent light
is the only thing that keeps me going.
but he is the sun
and i am the moon
we will never be together again.
and that is what will **** me.

Doctor, doctor I’m feeling awfully ill
When he’s gone it’s like my world is gone too
And I’ve got serious symptoms of withdrawal
My fever’s burning like a nasty flu.  

Doctor, doctor I am losing my head
I’m addicted and I can’t get enough
In a cold achy sweat I’m stuck in bed
And desperate for another dose of love.

Doctor, doctor you tell me there’s no cure
No pill or remedy to ease my pain
I guess I’ll always be left wanting more
Until my last day when I go insane.  

Love’s a disease and I’m under the weather
But it’s the only sickness that makes you feel better.

Your long fingers tap on my nervous heart.
I love your fickle soul
and freckled shoulders.

You say you won't find peace of mind
in a cinderblock room
or on a piece of notebook paper,
so you crumple up your doubts
and hide your body with mine.

My shrunken lungs cannot draw breaths
not used to say your name.
I will be a blanket to warm your bones
from your downdraft hopes.
I will comb your hair with my fingers
on the days you don't wake.

But my heart breaks
on battlefields you will never hear of.
I lick wounds
you will never know to see.
I train my trembling hands
so they may gently soothe you in sleep.

I can love you better than I can fix myself.
I will fight becoming what I fear
in order to be all that you need.