kissablyliterate

we could never have been together when we were wild, when we were so much of ourselves, when we were so self absorbed and self assured that life is a series of miserable victories and euphoric regrets. growing up is a process of distillation. we are born without limits but slowly life infects and people take more than they give and it's a wonder we have enough left to be. we spent years together taking from other people and giving to each other so when we reached some kind of balance we were meant to be together and apart. when we are making love now i can taste the future on your lips like icing so sweet my teeth ache when they bite. it i

In the first hour of February I sit in my window smoking cigarettes. Men in florescent parkas truck snow the wrong way down a one way street; the engines purr beneath the weight of falling snow. But the blizzard is ending. The snow slows to mist. The quiet lifts and something stirs against the curve of my spine. It yawns awake with the languid stretch of monstrous things leaving centuries of hibernation. My fingers ache when they curl and I am smirking around the filter of a burnt out cigarette. It stirs again. Joints crack as it unfurls and there is the anticipation of the prowl and the hunt. The street lights flare. Gauzy light spreads acr

And they give me all these pills to treat depression, pills for emptiness and loneliness and inappropriate guilt, for debilitating misery. But it is only superficial because there are no pills for apathy. ... When there's this black hole in the middle of you, when all that gravity is stealing you from yourself, when there is so much emptiness and nothing you do can fill it, can make it any smaller, can keep it from getting any bigger… The only thing you can do to save yourself is stop trying; the energy it takes to fuel your own disappearance is enormous. So you just have to let it happen to you, you just have to live with that feeling