there is a desperate longing in me to

be loved despite my brokenness

and i hear you say to me

child, i love you as you are,

and no one could ever equal that love.

let it be enough.


Why cry, why wonder

If nothing matters less

Why seek a truth long past,

Long since crumbled to dust

Long since left and destroyed

Why try to make it relevant? Why try to keep it


It’s pointless poison

Long abandoned and


Let it rest

My friend

How terrible, they chitter, how awful this is

they speak of things that do not yet exist

They are mourning her now but she’s yet

To give in

All they do is talk, all they do is whisper

Their heartbeats do not slow or pace the lonely halls

The way her family does,


20 years old

Will she really leave us like this?


why am i addicted to the tragic

why does my blood sing for the broken

is there something in me, irrevocably


that makes me gravitate

to those who are as sick as me?

why do i love those with hollows inside

why can’t i seek something healthy?

is it because i have never known health and so

it feels foreign? it feels like I

don’t deserve that life?


why does the idea of someone whole loving me

feel like an impossible dream?