sometimes, i forget what i lost.

not that i really forget, but i forget enough. i forget enough to not feel that gash within. that gush of heat and cold and the depth it goes.

where it rises, all around and underneath my feelings and words and feet. and all the ground and air mean nothing. i mean nothing.

a being of energy displaced, miscalculated, still unfit.  unfitting. and the world goes on and on moving as quickly as it always did.

in my loss again i am slowed to the speed of an ache. a slow pulse. barely even connected anymore to the rest. all the strings to this place cut away.

it is not just the loss. it is that in the loss i am lost. my energies unhinged from all the rest, all the places that used to be safe. i remember all this, all this hasn’t changed.

i am unhooked, gashed and gushing. i am without. i am unsafe.

i’m glad you broke across the quiet i smoothed on top of this. to remind me that i’m still full of noise, ungatherable, unquieted.

all the everyday becomes a habit, to paint the quiet, as if enough coat upon coat of it could erase the etchings, the caverns, the spaces.

so thank you. for your heavy handedness, the tactlessness of your tongue that reminded me.

i am still searching.

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