Tag: heartbreak recovery

but my synapses don’t know that; they have beenconditioned, and reconditioned, through the lightning that I let into my bedroom, but they are functioningjust as they should. they craved the electrical impulses,and we triggered the release of each neurotransmitter each time I climbinto my side of the bed.because I’ve washed the sheets over and over…

but I would push the minutehand down and down if I could possibly liftanything so heavy. But Iam tired fromthe way I have been carrying the daysthat Chronos refusesto lift on his own.And my backis so small. There wasso little surface area to begin with when all of thisbegan. But the days won’t seem to…

except for all the thingsI did wrong and all the thingsthat replay in my mind even as sleep tries to draw me in.no I amtrapped insidea music box, and the melodyis so beautiful– I wouldn’t changeany of it, except for that one thingthat just scratches the ears wrongfor a millisecond, except for that onething that must…

I am trying to createa garden within myself, wantedto discover what could bloomwithin the fasciathat covers each rib, but I kept worryingabout the sun and could not stop  calculating how many hours I would lose if the Florida skybegan to cryagain. I could not stopthinking about how muchit rains in the state that boastsabout how the sun…

because I remember the way that music would flowthrough me. and it was love, the way my muscles knewhow to react to each careful chord, and the waymy nervous system would harmonize with lyricsand make them a part of me. but the musichas forsaken me. the notes are stuckin my bones, and they are clashingin…

The days are fighting with meagain, and they have made a habitof doing so. They have tamperedwith the gravitational pull the moon has on the blankets of my bed and they are hoarding the air—they know I need it  for sound to travel, but the daysare fighting with me, and I am leftwith the silence.