from the archives - come find me

your old life, but all the colors are muted a little. your old life, but faster and a lot more painful. it’s everything you imagined it would be, & so temporary that the central line in your chest aches to say goodbye.

you are a guest here.

in this body and in this world, you are only passing through. my thoughts bump into each other like two strangers on a subway car — wholly eclipsed by a moment, for a moment. stunned. ready to move away from each other the second it becomes possible. we pass through this day every time the sun rises, yet still we find ourselves to be

strangers.

my thoughts don’t know each other. 

the air sits wrong in my lungs.

strangers.

unfamiliar because we have no reason to make each other's acquaintance, reality and i. i'm craving drinks i've never tasted, and the world has never been so still. i find my inspiration fused to a peppermint at the bottom of my grandmother's purse and slip the candy-coated nostalgia into my first draft, words sticky with things i might not remember.

and it was strange, even for me.