I’m so high on love
right now. I know
it’s just chemicals, my brain
releasing oxytocin in response
to a possible opportunity
for pair bonding, it’s really just
nature trying to trick me
into reproducing,
but it feels like heaven.
it feels like sheer bliss,
like I need to merge
my heart and soul and mind and body with another.
but I remember
the other times I felt this way.
I remember how I couldn’t stand
to be apart for a second, how quickly
they moved in and how that was the
beginning of the slow death
we both dreaded until the moment
it ended.
I have my life
and I would be so happy
to share it with you
but
there’s no room.
my heart is spacious enough.
my heart is an abandoned warehouse
populated by angry ghosts,
who I’d really like
to put to rest. it’s my apartment
that won’t house
another person.
fuck. I really love
this apartment. perhaps
some form of time sharing
might be possible.
I’ll just scoop myself
up off the floor and pour
my jellied heart
back into its steel-sided mold,
and try again to get close
without losing my identity.
R. Brookes McKenzie 