i’ve been sitting in the dark for a while now,
staring at the too bright glow of a computer screen,
watching a small bug crawl across the only light source it can find
and wondering
what it must be like to be close enough
to touch the only thing in a room i’m attracted to;
what it would be like to be in a room with a light like you.
all my messages are notifications cleared
without being read,
my whole heart is offered though already
being borrowed and begged by friends
i haven't even had the audacity to call back.
i am tired of receiving without anything to give but a heart,
wholly but more than whole
and still not enough.
know, please, days like today i think i am not suited—
maybe for anything,
much less love, to love, to be loved.
what's more,
the exhaustion of
giving my whole heart has never proved to be enough;
feeling i might always be destined to give too much for nothing
while receiving too much with nothing to give but a heart.
this is really just a stream of consciousness