Decades-old Devastation

creating a skyscraper devestation

What do you do with your old devastation?

The kind that has been cleaned up long ago. The kind where everyone else has carried on.

I pretend I’m stronger than it.

Though we battle constantly, I have already defeated it.

I find new reasons to let it go.

If a pang comes up, a hurt, a tip of the knife into my rib cage, I analyze it.

Oh yes, that devastation hurt, didn’t it?

It is in the past, I remember.

There is nothing devastating in this moment, with the window open and the sound of distant traffic.

How do moments of devastation transform into years?

As though they enter an infinite loop in our minds.

The battle, the conquering, the knife, it evaporates at the sound of a car horn, at the sound of the moment happening now.

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