because love was a concept that wrapped itself around
and sewed itself into and out of the crevices of my thoughts
nestling in the twisted corners long enough to make sense but never to evoke any feeling in me
because it was beautiful in the pages of the romance novel I kept borrowing from the library,
but my fingers lost the sensation of it as soon as I closed the book
because the tumblr quotes kept yelling at me, telling me broken people stay broken
and whole people don’t open the doors of broken souls
and no one willingly walks into a broken home
because dancing in the rain isn’t as fun when you do it alone
and no thanks, the spaces in between my fingers don’t need to be filled
and no thanks, I couldn’t accept your love because you loved what I had shown you
but even I had parts of myself that hadn’t been shown to me
so how could your whispered
“I love every single part of you”
have been true
when you only knew a part
a part that wasn’t even a part of the me that was cracks in the white walls
when the tainted parts of me that were painted over with “I’m okay” were hidden from you
because my thoughts were entranced
but the butterflies in my stomach went hungry
because it was empty
and everything that was,
wasn’t.