Clearing my throat, I shook autopilot from my shoulders
And welcomed fresh air to spill into my head
Like the first drag of a menthol cigarette
It's been a while since I heard my own voice
Of my abandoned sense of self
It was a catalyst turning keys in the ignition of my first car
I swear the air came looking for me
Or I for it, subconsciously
Where the stop signs are dripping red velvet icing into
Puddled reflections
Irish hail gripping cars like a one night stand
Lipstick smudging with every wiper swiped
Nostalgia lives up to the hype
And it makes me feel okay
Perplexed, it paralyses like a surprise embrace
And I just stand there stoned and laughing
With a stupid look on my face
I grant myself permission to wake up
I tug the blue bread from my ears
And hold hands with my depression
Acting like a transplant patient testing out new eyes
Looking at life as if it were the first time
It's hard to believe the scene
I'm wide eyed by the window
In awe at the wonder of simply being
Clouds paint temporary arts on the worlds ceiling
And my one bed apartment feels like a coliseum
For a moment I can exhale every mistake I've ever made
To create space for lessons I've not learnt yet
Sugar rushes like a high to soak up the bitterness in me
At full capacity, I feel pretty
But in a handsome way
When she comes home from work I assume the lenses are faulty
I'd forgotten the effect her presence has on me
A tempestuous tidal wave manifests in her mouth
Just before she says that she loves me
I sit with the night in appreciation of my own creation
Of weeds growing on the street adjacent
Of this ability to hear a world in operation
I'm alive and I can feel it
When the song Tinseltown by the Blue Nile comes on
When something sits right on my stubborn body type
When she doesn't know the words but still sings along
I'm alive and I can feel it
In a hesitant goodbye on a phone call from back home
In the healing of the ozone layer
In the first crunch of Tayto cheese and onion
After months of being deprived
I'm alive and I won't take it for-granted
When my guitar fulfills a pipe dream
When my culinary attempts don't taste like bin juice
When her naked interpretive dance is accidentally profound
I'm alive, I'm alive, I'm alive
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