Lovesick

I cannot control everything

I cannot change perspectives,

cannot force reconciliation

or summon inner restoration.

I cannot make you understand

how desperate my soul is for vulnerability,

how my heart fractures for strangers

as though they were my own blood.

I cannot control everything.

I cannot claim the single desire

I have carried since my first

breath in this world.

I cannot explain

the gift I once despised,

that life insisted on giving me.

I can only burn as a faint glow

within the fog of destruction

we have come to call home.

I am lovesick for the world,

and it is an illness with no cure.

Yet even still,

it feels so good

to love—

even with body aches,

and a fever.

I am lovesick for the world,

and it is an illness I will never recover from. 

—S. Amoros