I’ve always imagined myself going places.

Smiling at strangers.

Breathing different air in.

Getting lost in new streets.



And now it’s like you’ve destroyed those plans of traveling in solitude, just by stepping into my life, by not making me terrified that I can’t do these things by myself anymore, but by the very fact that I’d bring a hole in the shape of you everywhere I go. This hole would be a vacuum, sucking half of the magic out of the moment and bringing down the excruciating reality that you are not there.


I’m going somewhere in June. Maybe you’d’ve come up with a miracle by then, if not, then I’ll convince myself not to worry.


After all, pain is my best muse. I’ll bring back more words and visual poetry, and hug them to my being after all the exhaustion.

  1. ellagicacid-inked posted this