Beginnings Of Things
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I only really like
the beginnings of things

the first bites
of a meal
the first successes
of a hobby
the first weeks
of a relationship
before it becomes mundane
predictable
boring

it’s like going down a slide
too fast to think
rounding unexpected corners
new experiences, sensations
and then it continues
grows duller
the excitement fades
you stop surprising me
you start to bore me
and then irritate me
and that's when i know
it’s on borrowed time

when it’s a hobby i can ditch it
like an old toy
left behind on the ground
onto the next thing, for a time
but when it’s a person, like you

i blow it up
or i withhold
texts get shorter
i feel myself stop
giving a shit
you're still enchanted
i don't reciprocate
suffocating whatever’s there
in apathy

and then it’s over
i’m alone again
sitting in my room
fluorescent lights
rumpled sheets
my thoughts
bad company
closing in
until i see the next thing
and leap for it
to interrupt the static

so i fall back down the slide
knowing it won’t be any different
but enjoying the ride while i can
using you up, knowing
that i’ll throw you away
when i get bored
when the novelty wears off
i can lie to myself
say as i reach the peak
that it’ll always be like this

but try as i might
i can’t avoid the fact
that everything
has to

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