Finally, Indifference
I Don’t Miss You. I Missed the High.
Lately, when I read an in-love poem,
I almost gag.
Not because it’s wrong,
or not beautifully written~
because I remember
how convincing it all is
when you’re high on it.
Love makes everything glow~
makes life bearable even~
until it doesn’t.
And when you’re crawling out
of one of those bone-crushing endings,
the kind that rearranges your insides,
you don’t want another love.
You don’t even want the idea of it.
At least not until
you stop looking for the next one
to numb the last one.
And I think~
I’m there.
Here.
Finally.
Out of the woods.
Or maybe just done setting them on fire.
Either way~ there’s light here.
And for the first time in a long time,
I don’t want a new one.
I don’t crave the old one.
I don’t even curse the old ones.
I don’t care who they’re with now,
or what version of chaos
they’re offering someone else.
That used to eat me alive.
Now~ nothing.
And that nothing?
It’s not emptiness.
It’s not boredom.
It’s not longing.
It’s something cleaner.
Indifference.
Feels like being perfectly numb~
but without the drugs.
No craving.
No comedown.
No need to escape.
Just… here.
Alive.
Watching the world spin,
watching all of you
fall in love again
and again~
like a drug
I finally kicked.
Until the next one comes around,
and I can hopefully make better choices.
🖤
Cyn, your Bougie Hippie
When you buy me a coffee you are supporting Mexico coffee shop baristas. Currently in San Miguel de Allende, MX
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Hi Cyn,
I am more glad to read this poem than you can probably imagine. This is because I have hoped for a long time you would post a new poem. But more, I am glad for what it says about where you are now, that you have found some peace. You have come through to the other side of such deep hurt and loss. It’s not that you took longer than you should have to mourn the end of your love and to heal. It’s that you sound stronger than I’ve heard you in awhile. I realize also that though the power in your words is absolutely “genuine” (I haven’t forgotten what you said to me once about this word, in relation to myself, and that I have thought the same about you and should have said so before now), there will be times when the hurt returns. We all know this to be true of every form of loss.
As for the poem itself, it is beautifully eloquent and wise, as are, really, all of your poems.
"Indifference" sounds like breath. Great piece.