i was remembering this day, actually it was a night and then some. it was beautiful. we'd been rolling since midnight. pure. half MDA, half MDMA. he left a cigarette burning on my nightstand (no ashtray) left a hideous black stain on the white plastic. he left. it was quiet, so i went digging through cardboard shoeboxes looking for moments i'd lost, or forgotten. instead i found old torn papers with phone numbers: boys i'd fucked and never called back. girls i was too afraid to call. couldn't figure out why i'd kept them. i remember trying to sleep, but couldn't. got up, called somebody but realized they were probably in bed. the world was probably in bed. took a bath. wandered around the house with no purpose or direction until i saw the sun coming up in my backyard. it was summer. warm already.
got dressed and went walking. five thirty a.m. on a sunday on the highway and the truckers honked their horns cause what was a scrappy little girl doing at this hour? passes the starbucks. still closed. kept going. the town is quiet and far more stunning at this hour. i remember seeing the sign. 'flea market. 6-12' so i go. i used to go down on weekends. steal lighters from the vendors. a crow followed me there. i remember. he called at me from every branch until i got too far and he had no where to land. he told me a secret, though i don't remember that part. i picked a daisy from someones garden. put it in my hair. i remember grinning from ear to ear. i bought a ring at the market. silver eye with yellow stone. i never wear it. walked home. the people had come out now. it was time. i wasn't alone anymore. the noise was too much. i didn't sleep that day although i was tired. instead i fought to keep hold of the euphoria from early that morning. it was slipping away so i grappled with it. trying to maintain that beauty. i lost. it was gone. maybe it never was all that beautiful. maybe i don't really remember it the way it was. maybe i didn't really want it to last forever.
got dressed and went walking. five thirty a.m. on a sunday on the highway and the truckers honked their horns cause what was a scrappy little girl doing at this hour? passes the starbucks. still closed. kept going. the town is quiet and far more stunning at this hour. i remember seeing the sign. 'flea market. 6-12' so i go. i used to go down on weekends. steal lighters from the vendors. a crow followed me there. i remember. he called at me from every branch until i got too far and he had no where to land. he told me a secret, though i don't remember that part. i picked a daisy from someones garden. put it in my hair. i remember grinning from ear to ear. i bought a ring at the market. silver eye with yellow stone. i never wear it. walked home. the people had come out now. it was time. i wasn't alone anymore. the noise was too much. i didn't sleep that day although i was tired. instead i fought to keep hold of the euphoria from early that morning. it was slipping away so i grappled with it. trying to maintain that beauty. i lost. it was gone. maybe it never was all that beautiful. maybe i don't really remember it the way it was. maybe i didn't really want it to last forever.
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But then you have a hangover.