Constant Craving

As you all know, my heart was broken less than a week ago. It was so badly stamped on and ignored and laughed at that I am starting to doubt the validity of the claim that I ever had a heart to begin with. My mum has been taking good care of me when I keep bursting into tears over nothing, eating nothing, pretending to be a part of conversation. The way I am behaving is so cliche but for me, it feels fresh. It hurts me. I feel a genuine physical pain my chest, where a heart that used to beat through the emergency of love has found no reason to beat. I have a pain in my stomach, it’s the needles of anxiety. I have a cloud over my brain so that everything now feels unreal. The sureness I have of being deeply in love was pulled from under my feet, and now I have to readjust. The loneliness is palpable. The pain, is unbearable. The wine, Quetiapine and now Valium have all stopped working because he’s gone and not given an answer. I am worried about him but I am angry about him. I have so many questions, the main of which is: when did you stop loving me, and why did you continue to lie about the fact you wanted to be with me?
So fucking dramatic. I am 24 and my heart has just been shattered. This is *normal* right?
It doesn’t feel it. The worst part is, we lived in eachother’s pockets. He ran my lit zine with me (I SO regret that now), we have the same publisher, our books come out on the same day, we have events to attend — but no, he is too important to consider that. Let’s all take a moment to consider his fragile feelings, and how it must be really hard to be a misplaced child, having to live as an adult. 

But god, I love that misplaced adult. 

However all things must come to a close. I used to say to him, when you see married couples, you know they must have fought for hours at a time, sometimes days, but are still together because they never gave up on eachother. I never would have with him. He easily did with me. 

So here’s my poem, again it has no title. 

A bottle of 14% Shiraz, 2 new ciders
And my daily tranquilisers
Haven’t worked. 

In the doorway I see my sister’s
Posters on the wall. Unimpressionable. 
A single bed
A reminder – 
Because, I keep forgetting that

I’m going this alone, now.

I imagine you at home, taking
Small pleasures in tasteless Cup-a-Soups
Because you don’t believe in larger
Victories, they’re perhaps
Too *big*. 

I tried to leave the house today.
I listened to music for the first time
Since you left me, on the phone
Now, like an anchor, I found me
Grabbing for dear life onto a park bench

And I hoped someone would see me
And ask what’s wrong
Anyone, everyone –
To tell me “This is 
I wonder how much you are crying.
Not at all?
A bit? 
I won’t listen to my friends who say
You deserve stringing up. 
It’s me, after all. 
It was always me. 

Nobody prepared me for this happening.
The palpable loneliness has started now
Courtesy of you.
I have started to again look at the percentage
Of wines, before I buy them
For the first time in my clinicised life today
A doctor gave me a tissue 
And patted me on the back.

I need somewhere to howl.
I have started to avoid music that isn’t
About devestation. I have a desire to
Feel better —

It might not take much
Once I’ve celebrated myself devoid of you

The next time the full moon gives an eerie
Daylight to this country kitchen

I will curl into an ever expanding
Ball, over and over, 
Until I learn to walk again? 


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