and it was a few months ago
when i was listening to the head and the heart and downing a bottle of vodka
i got hit with the weirdest wave of something
it was something like a dream if dreams were made of
cutting air and the light getting knocked out of your pupils
and i realized that eight months ago i genuinely loved you
and it’s not that this was new information but it was this, and here is what it is
that there is a point in your life when you can be consumed
by the most powerful emotional convulsions that only can perfectly capture the human existence
it’s a mess of erratic sobbing and lighthearted banter and
your air --
it will always smell like cinnamon
and feel like ocean salt on your cheek.
it’s seeing the world, literally
through only rose-colored lenses and feeling deeply like a child again and i think
while none of this was new information again it was this:
that here i was, eight months later, and for whatever reason
i broke it off i resolved that i simply could not feel what i felt anymore, and that is what it is that began to eat away at me at that obscene hour of the night
with a bottle of vodka in my hand
and rivers and roads on repeat.
that you do all of this, and you feel all of this
and one day for unknown and uncontrollable reasons you cannot anymore.
your body tells you no more
and you go back to your daily functions.
what hit me was that it may never last.
it may never last for anyone.