What is this, sludging through my veins, pushing the blood to my heart and refusing to let it recede? What is this, pressure crumbled in my stomach, like a despised love letter, compacted just enough for my throat to tighten? What is this, a dull hum in my brain, almost like a scratched record, the needle scraping across the imperfect plastic, full and faint, but pestering my skull at the same time? What is this? Is this the loss of love?
YOU ARE READING
he/him/you
Poetry[completed] some half assed thoughts i've had about unrequited love and unnecessary hope shattering revelations
