Serves as a fragile distraction
To the reality
Of emptiness and apathy.
A whirlwind week
Was lovely at times
And wholly uneventful at others
But at no point
Has it felt like anything
Other than temporary.
It took me a year
To make it this far
And not feel guilty
To give love to others,
Even still, it feels hollow.
Physical pleasures are
No place to escape
For any long period of time
When the heart
Still yearns
For another.
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