Emptiness

( a poem )

Photo by Vinicius "amnx" Amano on Unsplash

I used to be acid, fizzing round the city.

I used to be attracted to dizzy patterns, 

now it’s monochrome blocks.

Now I floss, use hand cream, eat clean, 

jog three times a week;

look both ways (but don’t touch),

try not to think too much,

pretend I don’t remember 

whatever I used to be. 

I used to live a life of substance, 

just not the right ones;

I binged and skipped, danced and kissed, 

got on planes, got back late,

thought I might not stay,

thought I might not make it.

I tasted emptiness, 

but didn’t have the courage

to fill up on it.