It was the summer and I binged on Mumford & Sons
Hoping I was in love.
Like the hours would never fade.
I was high.
It all mattered.
We rode our bikes beside Amsterdam canals.
Some kind of light was always ricocheting.
Off water, windows, and smiles.
Nothing tasted of apathy
I tossed and turned
with drunk sickness or love sickness
I was alone, fighting with gravity and ageing.
I cried out “I gave you all. I gave you ALL”.
I sent her messages written like epitaphs.
But I gave nothing.
Nothing takes away the lies of music, lust, and alcohol
Except a silent morning cut only by the sounds of your body
cleaning up after your imagination.