Those days you sit and you engulf yourself with thoughts.
The things you enjoy, things you hate.
Your pet peeves.
All those memories; the good and bad.
Every text that stuck to your cells like glue to construction paper.
That Wednesday you had, had enough.
The what's his name that did that one thing.
Swimming in old laughter, spreading a smile across your cheeks like butter to warm toast.
Spending so long going through your phone your pinky aches and your eyes itch.
How lucky, unlucky, lucky, unlucky you are.
The should haves, would haves, could haves that splatter you to abstract.
Comparing your bff: then and now.
Shamelessly laughing occasionally.
The reasoning behind every quirk of your natural presence.
That patch of earth to make your skin crawl and your stomach turn into a gymnast
Every blink, every half breath, every sway of your arms, every touch of your foot to the ground: it all mattered.
At some point that person, that thing, that event.
It made you feel.
Fell human.
Feel mad.
Feel sad.
Feel left out.
Feel wonderful.
Feel glorious.
Feel...something.
