And still,
in the complete silence,
the universe
whispers your
name
and I
stretch out my fingertips,
searching for
you in the
overwhelming

darkness.

At this point

we haven't talked in a while
and maybe that's for the best
I don't love you anymore
perhaps that's for the best too
I hate to romanticize the past
a beneficiary of history like socrates
I'll never be

even so

At this point

we are two completely different people
indistinguishable
not only from each other
but from past versions of ourselves
we are stationary bayonets
placed dutifully and lazily
on top of the guns
we used to be
Always the second choice

At this point

We are strangers to each other
not that we would not recognize each other
but in the sense
that if I waved to you
or you to me
the other would not know what to do

At this point

I don't feel like checking in
because I know the past was better
and I assume the future will be too
its the middle of the story
the part you don't really need
but where you're still unsure
where it might lead
so how am i?

cautiously optimistic

At this point

There is no high like that of the epiphany. The only reason drugs and alcohol were ever decent was because they seemed to spark these glorious moments of clarity and realization, and even if it was only the illusion of a life changing thought, at least it was experienced. Hell sometimes they were even valid. But just like every other high, there was a come down. And the most terrible come down of all was knowing that whatever life altering wisdom you came to know, whatever deeper look into the human condition you now seemed to understand, the next morning you would wake up and everybody was just as much of a ******* as they were the day before and nothing changed and the high wore off and it was just another ******* let down.