June & Grief

"There is something so nostalgic about a slow June night.

The singing cicadas seem to recall a story that is never meant to see the light. 

The breeze is heavy, as if it is carrying my pain and the air is damp, as if it is grieving my loss, hiding my tears as if they fear the rain." 

helpmehelpmehelpme

one day, one day one day

my fingers will rake the ground 

throat will shred as i wail

cradling this broken frame

screeching 

decades of agony

decades of rage

the sickening need

to never feel again

my heart is rotting

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Sometimes I feel so empty

as though there's a hole where my heart should be

just an emptiness inside me

but I tend to just say I'm okay

it is simpler that way

nobody ever asked you to elaborate on being okay

the beautiful shame that binds me

Why does it feel like such a horrendous thing? To love.

Why? It is a glorious feeling, to entwine your soul with others'. The souls that make life worth living. Why do we curl in embarrassment at the mere thought of bonding? I do not understand. 

Vulnerability is scoffed at. Open hearts are sewn shut with rusty needles, poisoning the bloodstream with bitter shame. It soils the stomach and curdles in the throat. 

I do not understand. 

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I cannot help myself from wondering if you are another lesson. Another person to teach me something. 
Someone I don't get to keep.
It's not doubt, I am not second-guessing what we have. I'm just scared to lose it. So much loss in this life. Enough for the next one to come.
So, I look at the moon. And I make a wish. That it is you and I in this life.
And the next. 

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Do I still want to die? 

Now that the days grow longer with warmth, I may not be so sure. But that cold feeling of relief. I had felt my shoulders sag from the belief. The belief of, yes, it is what I want, in this moment in time. 

To disappear. 

But, to never love again, that would be tragic. 

until when?

I am scrambling to hold onto what used to make me happy. But it is no longer enough to keep me alive. 

I want to die.