There are cold aches in my muscles
I cannot move without feeling as though they will break.
I have a cold heart that aches to the thought of you and
These aches leave my thoughts cold.
Warmth is now just a distant sensation —
Someone might say I ache for.
They take apart my skin as a metaphor,
As if stripping my veins make me beautiful or poetic,
As if pulling me apart would somehow repair me.
I hate metaphors, yet they are the only way I know how to tell you I am in pain.
I don’t know what you want from me.
I don’t know what I want from you.
Maybe I just want you to feel something other than lust but
I am not the kind of person people lust over.
I am not that wonderful.
I am not an intricate galaxy.
I am barely a functioning human being.
I am barely being.
All of a sudden my chest aches,
And I am back in the same cycle.
About the Creator
Dyanna Kampman
i should probably start taking vitamins or something.
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