People holding hands
and kissing made me want
to barf my brokenness on their feet.
I was sick of love,
but I’d spent my last ill day
chasing my self-esteem like a lost child.
God, no.
Heart, stop beating.
Not this again.
I’m falling for a woman I hardly know.
The killer of love and painkiller rests in her eyes.
I approached her with suspicious eyes,
hoping she’d turn me down.
Instead, her eyes met mine
and the world stopped cold at dawn
like nothing else mattered,
like we had nothing but minutes left to live
if only through kisses.
Over you,
I’m lovesick,
and I got well soon
in bed with her, chasing dopamine
in a broken world.
We married with the promise
our bodies would be the other’s sick day.

(© 2022 AC)

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