Dead Weight

Do you ever get that soul-crushing
feeling when we don't talk?
That pit in your stomach,
that something crucial
is missing from your being?

Do you ache for me like I ache for you?
Do you feel anything for me above lust?

Is there more to us than
heavy breaths and rhythmic pounding?
You were always more to me;
more than what lay under satin sheets.
I was always less to you;
less than the love beating in the
wings of the butterflies in my gut.

I'm not sure how much longer
I can carry this weight of loving you.

Illustration by @shop.sopita