Sometimes I feel like I can taste impending doom  

Muscle memory begins to recall curling around a soon to be bruised heart 

The chest begins to dream that is tender and wounded 

Pulse – elevated 

Skin – borderline febrile 

The teeth ache, the limbs buzz with misplaced energy 

We take note of this with medical intensity. Diagnose ourselves. 

Finally – something familiar 

We are at home in disappointment 

Lack of anticipation is rest, peace, with a resounding no the mind is finally free to stop asking questions, stop wondering, stop pacing increasingly concentric circles around an increasingly tiny room 

We are having the same conversations with ourselves at 26 that we were having at 18 

Ache is scripted 

Ache is rehearsed 

Ache is mundane 

This is when we are most honest with ourselves 

This is when we see our face most clearly 

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