Lobotomy

Land slowly, let your body sink into the reminder of what an express train in Harlem looks like from the local, what the corner seat in your regular bar smells like on a Tuesday, what traffic on the Brooklyn Bridge sounds like when you run underneath it: in short, what home feels like. You sit in a vat of apathy for a while, but it's just the hangover talking, it's just that you needed a moment to yourself and then you will be back, it's just that the words don't look so good when your mind wallows and then what's the point in speaking them?

I sat under the stars one night and saw an entire world come together within me.

There's no reason to think the answers aren't still all there.