Love spun

During lockdown, I fell in awe with you: through concrete walls and mobile phone screens. You told me I made-your-heart-jump and I wanted to shoot those words into my veins and self medicate on all your stories dancing across your tongue. You let me overdose on countless inside-jokes and spend my quarentined nights downing pills of tales of your childhood antics. You let me draw up lines of endless 4am conversations, full of tired-giddy whispers and the bending of time. You were a Friday night on a Monday morning, when every other day seemed to have rolled into one. 

And when the lockdown softened, your thoughts and words hardened.

Sometimes I pretend I can still roll up your stories and blow smoke rings of disappointment, so a slow buzz can take over and I never have to sober. It's pathetic I still long to get high and glassy-eyed on the lack of your loyalty. And if you ever asked me if I missed you, I'd tell you I miss myself because it feels like my body is a spinning vortex and I'm falling into a black hole, praying you could have been sucked in right along with me. But you haven't, I'm just crushing; and you're a coward. You still cloud every corner of my brain and make everything hazy; sucks how there was a time when you were the only one keeping me from going crazy.