It's Tough to Have a Crush

It devours me.

It starts with the air I breathe inside
that filters through my lungs and heart
and pumps through my veins. It tears at me
and I cannot see it through my skin; it does not bruise
but I feel it like a malicious paper airplane
flying so that his sharp edges slice through every soft tissue.

My eyes water.

It starts with a sun shower and then drizzle
and I do not recognize the warning. I ignore the
wailing and thunder and think about the smell of salt
instead of the icy droplets forcing my insides out and

suddenly I am a row boat in a hurricane.


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