reaction.

You wear old clothes that smell like flower rubbed skin damp with gentle sweat from bodies in sleeping bags warm from the rain.

 

You shop for things you don't like anymore but fit well in the cupboards left empty by a lovers passing.

You trace the walls with your finger tips,'down the repainted hallways that you once stumbled love drunk to kiss a piano back playing a symphony for no one but you.

 

You leave some things the same because sanity is a funny thing, but temperamental to say the least.

 

The bits and pieces of your brain raging with thoughts and aging pain fading like a withering stream losing speed towards the end of its decent.

 

Isn't it beautiful to forget the things that hurt.

                       -

Every second spent with new lovers and friends seems endless and bliss.

 

When they are no longer around, and those moments have passed, the empty will settle again.

They will miss you, and you will not even notice the passing of time since you last spoke.

 

Everyone gets caught up in the webs of their mistakes and unorganized lives.

Attitudes become somber and drunk, when progression ceases to exist.

The train has stopped in its tracks, remove yourself from the picture like a thickened drop of paint being smoothed out.

 

Your memories remain the same, but the emotion is removed like draining the newly deceased of all its blood.

 

The body remains calm and collected, but their is nothing that makes it active or human anymore.

• addisone