There’s this nostalgic feeling that comes with every old song I breathe in
The drugs that kept me going when you’d never listen.
But there was nothing in between
Nothing that could prove that our illusion of love was worth patching broken wounds for. Nothing .
For I couldn’t salvage those pieces of us.
Not the parts that once knew love.
So let me forget our idle words
And bask in my new perception of velleity for shuddering in warmth.