I Feel Trapped In Love
i want you —
don’t touch me.
come closer —
you’re too close.
i beg for your hands
then bruise myself pulling away.
i starve for affection,
chew on fantasies,
lick the idea of love off my fingers —
but when it’s real,
when it breathes,
when it looks back at me,
i panic.
i pull you in
just to feel powerful
pushing you out.
i need to be wanted
until wanting becomes a cage.
your love presses against my ribs,
a siren screaming stay
while my body screams run.
i crave the chase,
the ache,
the almost —
but certainty makes me choke.
so i tug the rope tighter
then cry when it burns my hands.
and when you finally leave —
when the room exhales your name,
when your absence sits where your body was
i collapse.
i reach for you
with phantom limbs,
scratch at the air like you might still be there.
i miss you violently,
the way addicts miss relief.
i replay your voice
until it loses its warmth
and becomes punishment.
i wanted you gone —
so why does the silence feel louder
than your love ever was?
i don’t want to be alone.
i don’t want to be owned.
i don’t want silence.
i don’t want to be seen this clearly.
i push you away
then bleed when you don’t come back.
i fear love when it stays —
and grieve it
when it finally listens.
-Seth Arion













