January

Every January

I wake up with that feeling

Of wanting to be new

I squeeze into soft curves

Wringing out any excess thoughts of you

Clinging to me like bad breath

After a morning cigarette

When you used to be my fix

Now all that remains between us

is brokenness

An ache in my head where clouds used to be

Pit in the place of butterflies

Hard to believe you were everything to me once upon a time

Now I don’t even think you could recognize 

me as more than a passerby

🌑 

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