i forgot what love is i told my best friend on a blooming moon night.
i told her with my voice in a whisper and blades of grass in between my finger tips.
I told her i forgot what it was like to love,
And to be loved.
Because i dont remember it anymore.
A memory fades into the deep crevasse of my brain,
And when i go to find it,
It sends up dust.
Causing me to have a sneeze that just wknt come out.
I told her that night.
With the stars out.
And the clouds still visible like dark blotches of dirty water.
I asked her with my head to the sky and the air ghosting in and out of my lungs.
I said,
"Is it really love if i cant love him sober?"
Because when i'm drunk,
I can be myself.
Or how id like to think myself as.
Fun and happy,
Ditzy and fun.
I was jealous of my alter ego.
Because She could love him without a doubt.
But once i sobered up,
And drank a hot cup of Reality coffee,
I didn't.
I could hear the grass ticking against itself so i asked again.
"Is it love when im happy, and in a room full of people, and i look for him?"
Because although that might be love,
It might be excitement.
Or sadness.
Or aching pains for being a "little bit too much pain".
Because i wanted someone to be proud of me.
i watched for his shadow.
I looked to my best friend that night.
And i felt my heart ache.
Because in this moment i missed him.
Maybe it's because it was late,
And sober,
And i wanted someone to be proud of me.
Because i loved him more then i loved myself.
