this winter heart

by third year Teresa Lu

i have learned to love loneliness

and i have learned to hate that i love

loneliness in my darkest times

this icicle of heart

that refuses to beat for anyone but my grief

the feeling of disgust that overwhelms me

when lovers dance their fingers over my face

cooing to me that it will be okay

their love churns my stomach and

creates an autoimmune response as if to say:

you were not built for this

but

there you were

on this old trodden path

that i am much too familiar with

with your kind eyes and warm hands

your gentle gait fell alongside mine

surrounded by nothing but my thoughts and your breathing

how could i ever hate something so warm

in this frigid world of mine

where i long forgot the touch of another without my familiar repulsion

and yours is oh so soft

where i lie awake at night chasing sleep and relief and the right answer and that all of this isn’t fornothinganditsnotmyfaultiendeduphereiamokayichosethisandidontdeservethisimworthyimworthyiha

i feel the shift of the bed

your body sliding under the blankets next to mine

you hold my pinky with your own

you press your lips to my grief

and drink it in

there is an ocean there

there is a beach next to it that we will never walk on

what you stole from under my eyes

kissed and cradled

praised and worshiped

is much uglier than an ocean or beach

it is cold and windy

no trees survive here

but it is yours

and more importantly it is mine

there is warmth here.