who would have thought
it'd feel so good?
the aroma
exactly how i remember:
sweat and passion
the familiar regret taps
on my shoulder
but i won't turn around
because even though
i have broken,
i have succeeded
in finding the medium.
allowing myself to
indulge in a single moment
without the whistling
of the teapot
ready to blow reaching
its maximum capacity.
one too many names
i know, but i've lost count
and the dull roar of gossip
fades into the background
giving me a split second
to breathe.
i plan on holding onto this.
however superficial
my hope may be.
i'll let this relapse
be the beginning of a new recovery.