Loneliness is the human condition.
I know this because our bodies are never prepared
I reach over to you and static sparks between us
like a match, a quick pang that leaves a resonance
in the finger tips.
We still jump when people tap us on the shoulder.
Still shudder when lover’s comb their fingers through our hair
and recoil from violent hands that threaten to impact us.
We can never plan how certain touches
How fresh shells of snake skin feel under foot.
How beautiful it must be to understand Braille
as a native language, small bumps translating to a
mountain under finger tips.
I never planned for this, to decipher myself into isolation.
It is difficult to conjure the nerve to touch your face
when there were so many nights
with only my heart beat for company.
no matter how many gross facts you tell me about McDonald’s i’m still gonna eat it
I hated high school. I don’t trust anybody who looks back on the years from 14 to 18 with any enjoyment. If you liked being a teenager, there’s something wrong with you.
And my throat hurts so badly from all of the times I gasped for air. And I wish you could just understand. “I wish I could help you” are the worst six words to hear. I think my heart breaks every time I hear them. I so badly want to tell you all of these things but I can’t seem to find the the simple neural pathway from my brain to my vocal cords. Oh if only you could read my thoughts, if only. I wish that you could just look at me and know. But that is asking for the impossible. It’s just so hard being in my own head sometimes. Searching for an exit when there isn’t one. A fast escape from all this anxiousness.