(gulp)

Couldn’t resist a minute more.

Relapse.

I again…

After six months sober...

Here.

In this pain I know all too well.

Ten years lost to this drug my veins ache for.

First breath in the morning and last thought at night, all consumed by it.

Every cell in me craves it.

That physical euphoria my body portraits.

Feels like someone has poured pure joy into every single muscle and fiber of my being.

It makes me feel so content

Every single bit of me is singing and buzzing with life and love.

It's like the ecstasy of *******— that first blissful, pleasurable pulsation of endorphins and serotonin.

This is what I feel when I first take LOVE.

And then...

And then, the honeymoon stage is over.

Fights erupt.

Never-ending debates.

Miscommunications.

Misperceptions.

No trust.

Accusations.

Lies.

“I’m done...”

…

Again, it feels like a part of my soul is leaving my body.

Again, sitting here numb.

A toxic love...

I’m addicted to,

And there’s no way around it.

It’s already deep intertwined with my veins.

Yet, no matter the toxic, tragic event that happened before, I sit here, and I want nothing more than to spend my life next to this soul.

To see his eyes unchanged as the skin around it wrinkles and grows old is what my heart will always desire— to stare at those eyes for the rest of eternity.

Dead air…


















So here I’ll wait, until you decided to come into my life again and repeat this déjà vu.

You’re the closest thing in my mind.
Or the most familiar heartbeat—uninvited yet throbs.

Maybe, maybe you were there before,
in those blurred, blank spaces of my memory lane.
Praying, just earnestly waiting
to contain me in
your poetry.

Your shape, your skin, your voice
seems a revisit of the past.
Where I’m sure, out there
the universe conspires
to meet us halfway,
promising that
we already are
both part of
one another

a multiverse existence,
where realities slip through
the hourglasses of time,

memory is a sweet drizzle,
originating from the clouds of conscience,

an atmosphere made of nostalgia,
and we are the floating planet.

the galaxies are unknown and untouched,
we bloom and wither in this cataclysm of life

but I recollect all this,
from a beautiful dream with eyes open,

so was it a deja vu?
or my hands just slipped of this typewriter.

My heart got excited
Then got let down
Decided not again
Until you came around.

My heart got excited
Then got let down
Never again, not this time around.

Sitting alone in a park
and a familiarity sent
chill inside your spine
like a spark; the sudden
even playing in front
you took you to your
tomorrow, and all you
could think of is a
vivid memory of your
the warm home you
came from; the vague
feelings took over
soon as you heard a
song and surprising
noises of the children
playing at the other
side; you never felt
so nostalgic with it
"I feel like this thing
Happened before?"
you thought and
your girlfriend came;
everything vanished.

—Deja Vu

you arrived your home,
exhausted and hungry
Yourself felt detached
with everything inside
The home was unheated;
it has been years after
your parents died from
sickness and accident;
Your chest felt heavy
and an overwhelming
feeling oozes down
like what you have felt
awhile ago at the park;
uneasy with the tight
unnamed feelings, you
felt negativity inside;
the detachment tires
your whole being more
and you will see yourself
crying to release the
uninvited feelings

—Jamais Vu