It stirs in you now, a process that cannot be stopped, a sprout emerging from the earth and unable to contain itself. I wake with a deep breath in my lung, I smile at strangers in the street, this morning I remembered, for a moment, what longing feels like and it jolted me like a burst of electricity. Do you remember how it felt to want to touch another person's lips so much that you thought you may explode?
May gasps with that feeling, out of breath with anticipation. Everything is about to start, everything is about to happen.
For so many endless days I thought I didn't know what it was to want anything anymore, I didn't even have it in me to want to die. It's a strange illness, how it strangles your memory of who you are and why you are here. And when the illness recedes, and your self moves its jumble of suitcases and frantically packed plastic bags back into your chest, how clear it all is.
You were there all along.
This skin always fit you best.
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