Astravore

The emotional core — am I allowed to feel good without guilt, or am I lovable as I am

My stomach twists, and my chest clogs with flowers
Breathing air in like nails to a coffin
My mind's a field of unsought emotions
which my heart can never hold
so it overflows, like a red river in flood
but it has nowhere to go
so it impede my lungs with overgrown roots
and vines running along my bones
turning into red spider lilies, bittersweet longing
a burden I carry every hour I lay awake

Maybe it's overthinking, they say
then teach me how not to care
about the grapevines that bear insecurities
through every corner of my bloodstream
leaving me breathless, clutching my chest
eyes wide, glued to the ceiling like the answers live there
engraved like the scars on my skin or maybe
the reason my bones ache and break for someone about
thoughts that question the love I've received
if I was maybe a bit better in the head, for you
languishing because of a love I don't think I deserve
every inch of me consumed with self-pity

Is this what falling in love should feel like?
dying trying to breathe because your head is tainted
wistful and yearning for something so delicate
when loneliness is the only company I'm versed in
chasing every high the way I chase yours
afraid your calm will swallow me whole
my nerves answering it in gentle ecstasy
am I allowed to soak in it without guilt
gnawing at my skin, scorching my longing
for someone to see me beyond my unbelonging