Full of Absence.

Join me. Lets have a cup of coffee. Lets have this place to ourselves. Help me fly. Secretly, i know you know how to. I need a menu. You got to me. All along I resisted. I walk. I beg. I leave. I want answers even thought I know I don’t need them. This is black coffee. I’m relocating myself in a new space of something. A new everything. A new pearl heart and a dusty moon. This is torture. Cite. Torture again. It is time to let go now. Gone.

What don’t you understand?

I live here now. Live. I still have memories of you. They fade but they’re still here. I hate to share them with anyone but you. Share. This is an immediate heartbreak. A sign. It is serious. It is a disorder of my mind.

An anxiety ache? It feels different. It is different. Torture.

I’m full of it.

You can stop pouring now. Take a step back and don’t turn around.

Full.

Stop.

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Photo: Lauren Thorson – Cargo. cargocollective.com/filter/Lauren-Thorson

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