Sundays Are The Worst, Especially In September

The air vibrates with lovers laughing, the fuzzy warmth of nostalgia is thick on your clothes,
the haze of collective energy, the languid breathing of the clouds,
the unspoken agreement that for just one day, it’s not so bad after all,
it’s dense and silent right around your ears,
and heavy, pressing dark space into your restless mind
meandering around corridors hearts used to roam,
channels opened by the awakening of soulfire just ashes now,
cold dust where everything was once so
bright, autumn mornings feel like betrayal or like God’s being sarcastic
like look how beautiful the dead can be, all browns and yellows and golden
endings make you wonder how come they get to be so lucky, plus
it smells like his skin after a fresh shower outside,
you nearly buckle,
most days you’re okay until the wind grazes across your collarbone
and raises goosebumps in the pattern his fingers used to trace,
or else it’s the loaded questions in the pauses between the sufferings in the blues music
swaying unsteadily from your neighbour’s window,
sometimes it’s thunderstorms or Etta James singing your soul to its death and
that’s when it seizes you the cold, hard
panic
that you’ll never love yourself as much as you loved him,
that your mind will be stuck on this loop until the mercy of eternal oblivion,
that you’ll slip and self-medicate – Pinot Grigio in a mason jar –
passive aggressive tweets and that message you typed three months ago:
“I miss you. I miss me. You have her, and if I can’t have you
I want her back. Please.
Beautiful things should come with a trigger warning”,
that you’ll hit send,
that you’ll wander around at 4am looking for strangers to fill the silence and for
different-shaped hands to hold you together,
that you’ll cry, that you’ll beg,
that you’ll never be whole again, but
instead you’ll drink more wine, and write sad poems,
and go into your bed full of loneliness and be stronger for it,
and with any luck, eventually Monday will come back,
and God will feed you warm milk and She’ll help you breathe.

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