"Love"

I hate

When people talk about “love.”

Can you call high school romance “love?”
Either way, I hate when people talk about it.

People assume I want someone

And I always have to assure them I don’t.

And it’s true,

I don’t.

But I wish that I did?

Or I wish that I could.

They view it as something so simple,

So black and white,

So easy.

It’s nothing close to easy for me.

And I know it is for other people,

And that’s what makes me angry.

I’m 17 years old and I can’t seem to feel what everyone else does

Because although it starts out like theirs,

It goes downhill fast.

 

I never feel good about feeling good because of someone special.

 

I don’t have butterflies in my stomach,

I have squirming maggots

Wriggling and turning and

Nausea overtakes me.

 

I don’t soar,

I experience a tumultuous flight

And it ends

With me crashing

Down

To

The

Ground.

 

I really wish I wanted it.

I really wish I could have it.

And right now I think I never will

And right now I think I have those maggots again

And fuck I need them gone.

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