l’appel du vide

there aren’t enough hours in the day
to make the greys ours.
i talk way too much about the flowers
but have you ever noticed how the sun changes colors when you stare at it too long.
i’m at my edges
and for some reason there’s a woman i’m seeing
but my eyes are closed
she takes a step out my nose and slaps me in the face with cocaine.
i should be waking up and start my day but my covers are vacuums and i don’t know which way is forward.
i’ve been down with the sickness ever since i started having conversations in my head.
i received a phone call from my mother in september and she told me she was afraid of me committing suicide.
hold on, i have to sneeze.
curse me.

i was roaming the streets of paris by myself back in november.
i remember waiting for the metro and watching this couple have sex right in front of me.
i possibly joined, but i don’t remember.
i fell in love with this woman in a cafe, she was serving me wine and i was speaking french to my lover.
she told me not to leave anytime soon because she was scared that i might die out there, during the nights of the paris attacks.
i had no idea what she was telling me but as i had sex with her she kept laughing with a cigarette in hand and a phone that kept calling me back.

i remember being at the arc de triomphe
feeling heavily defeated.
the woman in my head was thinking about jumping off of the eiffel tower
hopeful to end up in someone’s cliche picture.

i found myself staring this woman in the eyes as she had her back to me.
i married her at the Sacré-Cœur
the honeymoon was in the catacombs
i returned to my home in london only to find my girlfriend at the time
sleeping with another mind.
i should’ve jumped that night i was hanging off waterloo bridge.


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