GLASS HALF FULL

Your words keep me feeling underweight.

They pour into my heart with a soft trickle, leaving me only half empty.

I may need to learn how to cherish the bare windows of my soul. I may need to love the exposure.

There is something heavyweight about vulnerability, like a large, solid body on top of me.

I cannot roam past the feeling. I must let it have me. I must like it.

I do like the heavy feeling of you.

It cancels out the inadequate fill of your words. The way you speak leaves a half-hearted sensation in my chest.

I cannot escape it.