Seven years

once upon a time
i was blessed with colorful life
tasting all the different flavours
every one that i could find
but all that is different now
when life tastes just like waiting
for the next morning
for the next youtube video that catches my eye
for the next cigarette
for the moment when all of this fog
will miracously go away
„the pandemic is over, you can be free again“
– plays like a song of redemption in my brain
over and over again
waiting for that one moment
so that everything else will fall into place
seven months of my life
could easily turn into seven years
into transforming what once was a circus
(not always a nice one, but still somehow fullfiling)
to a quiet, sad eternity
full of people who lost their spark
full of people that i know better
than i knew my lifelong friends
full of people that i didnt choose
and that didnt chose me
i know with confidence
every mole, every pore, every wrinkle
on their face
i know what every expression means
just because i got to look at them
constantly
in what feels like seven years

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