Depleted

My phone Is drier than this desert I live In while I sit here, anxiously waiting for a text that'll never come. Every time I think I've found a twin flame, the sparks from It end up detonating In my face.

I've been pleading with God to take my excitement away. To quiet the rush of another persons body and mind. To stop yearning for the weight of someone else entirely on top of me. Because the moment I let myself hope, the devil disguised as disappointment, Is waiting just around the next corner.

But hope Is a stubborn bitch to kill, and so am I.

So each day, I keep trying. Trying my best to be myself and bleed love out Into the universe the way I desperately wish It would pour Into me. But the bleeding leads me drained and empty until my heart and veins slowly replenish my soul on their own.

I have loved so many times, and lost an equal amount. Still, I keep going.

Sometimes I wonder if I've already used up all my love that was ever meant for me In this reality. Like I was only allocated a certain amount but it's all been depleted now. Maybe I was lucky enough to experience It all. And maybe In the next lifetime, I'll get a fresh heart, one without any scars, and another chance to start anew.