ODE TO THE BROKENHEARTED

This is not a ballad,
this is an ode.
An ode to the brokenhearted.
An ode to the lonely.
An ode to those who have cried so many tears
that their shirt clinged to their chest like sweat.
Whose snot filled noses
pop and hiss,
like larvae in weird tubes.
Whose loneliness is, itself, lonely,
because it knows no one like it.
Whose ribcages feel hollow, and scraped on the inner side.
How did somebody get in there?
Love, that's how.
That's how somebody can get into your ribcage,
where they can squeeze your stomach,
squeeze your heart,
squeeze your vocal chords,
and squeeze your happiness,
In the happy direction, or the sad.
And leave you hollow, and alone,
with no one.