I remember May '12 and April '13

I skipped last year in a white hot heat of illusion

***

I'm taking about the Peruvian, the rockstar, the addict

and wondering how I find the same people in different places, faces

falling down the same rabbit holes.

It's like a goddamn nervous tick, this need to give up my heart to something that can never, ever be.

***

I tell myself, this morning when I wake up, that I will not, not, not answer the calls that (most likely) will never come

and put on my headphones and get deep into my books.

***

At least, this time, I know what to expect, I know what I feel and why. I dream in multiples and the layers of reality that just tip the edge of my forgotten self. I forge dreams out of silk.

***

Solitude, you worthy companion, ease my soul.