Crocheting Grief

My Little Loyal Lonely
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A restless apology
Murmured in a somniloquy
Forgive me for wanting you so much.
Forgive me for not keeping it to myself.

I love you so much I can’t hold my head up high.

Here is a list of apologies, for all the things I’ve done wrong
For all the things I will inevitably do wrong and some more to spare.

Here is my dignity.
Buried six feet under, as I beg for your attention like I’m begging for pardon in a death sentence
Here is me saying “Please don’t leave” to the back of your head.

As desperate and pleading as a prayer.

As futile as it too.

Because I’ve realized that my loneliness wasn’t a choice.
I only thought it was.
Because my little loyal lonely, in my little corner of the balcony,
They made the prettiest of words.

And now I have you.
And I like how you kiss me sometimes.
And I didn’t have that before.

Now I have dimly lit cheap restaurants
And too much teeth.
Lungs filled with carbon-di-oxide
collecting inside me, creating a drugged mob of butterflies.

that’s a problem. Cause, you see,
They were the narrators of this story. The fabricator of these words.

Now the words I regurgitate, along with saliva, reeks,
they’re disgusting.
I can’t fix it.
I can’t make them pretty no matter how hard I try.

I can’t help it.
The aftermath of love is truth.
And the truth is rarely appetizing.

And the truth is
This can’t be another thing I fail at.
This idea of deserving a little better, what if that’ll leave me with nothing at all and
I’m so terrified of dying alone.
I’m so terrified that
When my words fall short and the curtains drop,
And with nothing to show, there’s just me.
I won’t be enough.

The truth is.
I like how you kiss me sometimes.
Too much teeth
All crooked, crooked.