Another Saturday

The world has been collapsing into chaos for months…

But all I can think about is the sound of your laugh, the way smiles reach your eyes, the smell of your cologne, how your finger tips on my skin felt.

But none of it’s real…

I am painfully aware none of it is real.

I made it all up from peices of memories and dreaming of you.

I got you out of my head and then I let you slip in again to be my mental security blanket.

So I could put on a brave faces.

So I could convince myself that “someday might come”

Knowing damned well…

It will not.

I must not be well, if I logically know how crazy this is and yet I still allow it to comfort me.

But who am I but another faceless cutout girl with mix and match attributes… most of which, I am aware of your distaste in.

But here i sit, still wondering…

What makes you give a real belly laugh?

What makes your heart skip beats?

What makes you mad with passion? Rage?

How do you handle under pressure..?

I suspect it’s to avoid the inevitable.

The world is not well.

I am not well.

We are struggling to pull air in lungs that bubble with the apathy grown in our hearts while drowning out each others sound with bickering.

And I think I am resigning to madness so that I do not have to feel it for myself.

I know I can’t hold this image forever, because I know it’s not meant to be.

For today I’d rather shut away from the world with the idea of you, then shove you away and pretend to be any other version of myself…