1. abuzz. i am an incandescent bulb, naked and exposed. moth-like filaments quiver with invisible heat. the meaning of it all lies in the silent, imperceptible in-between. a question mark. slipping in among words and glances, a silent inhale where eyes meet and and your eyes listen deeply and my ears are more than a sea wall, pounded by the waves of everyone else’s needs. 

2. i am here and yet i am gone. my whole body electrified and now residing somewhere else. the air in my lungs is thinner when you’re around. each inhale pauses between an anxiety attack and pure adrenaline. i’ve gone missing in the secret rooms of my mind— a space where my deepest desires reunite. with my first love, music, and then all the other passions rise up to follow, like children waving their hands begging to be picked out of a crowd. all the things i first loved are flayed from my insides and suffocated by salty floodwaters. as the waters fade back into the sea, the house will survive (i hope) but all the rooms of my mind are still occupied and my children are bobbing around in the sea of discontent. 

3. i air out my feelings like last night’s party clothes. waiting for the second hand of time to swallow up the second hand smoke and sweat, to dissipate back into the ethers of everyday. to break the molecular bond that so silently, so stealth-fully caused me to spin out of control. 

4. i miss the things that never were, never could be.

5. i take a shower to cry in secret. i turn the faucet but no tears come. is this moving on? a returning to? coming up for air or just another attempt to drown my feelings for another decade?