It was only a matter of time.
Our existence would only exist
In this chapter of my life.
The length was still undefined.
And with words
Lost in translation,
We exist on borrowed time.
Moments stolen from my dreams…
But I had to accept that
We were no longer
Only fucking.
I took days of distance,
Contemplated all my exes,
Reflected & Reminisced,
Made a few decisions
On how to measure…
Explain,
The depths of this experience
Random analogies and metaphors,
Simple words and phrases,
Digestible poetry…
Combo meals,
Popular for mass consumption.
I desire none of that.
Matvejeva writes this rise and fall of love with stark honesty, making it hard to look away from. It’s arresting and engaging and makes the reader yearn to find a connection of their own that elicits such a strong and introspective emotions.
breathtaking flights of fancy that will give you the bends before undercutting these mercurial moments with a healthy dose of dark humour. These balloons have anchors.
