I put on my favorite perfume and instantly feel like I’m home.

Perfume has always reminded me of my mom.

I put on my favorite chapstick throughout the day, it’s pink and glossy.

you and I have matching ones, and I cannot bear myself to run out of it.

it will be equal to losing you again.

I still cook my noodles so they’re a little bit crunchy, they taste better that way.

and you’re the one who taught me how to cook that way.

I can’t escape the pattern.

My favorite movie is this scary movie called “us,”

we used to watch it all the time,

I think it’ll always be my favorite movie.

and god, I love slam poetry,

I love Rudy Francisco,

I love any true poet,

and I love how I felt the first time I listened to slam poetry,

I feel the same way every time.

I love the song “feeling Whitney” by Post Malone,

I love it more than I could ever hate it,

and it’s so bittersweet because that was our song,

and I cannot listen to it without singing it while making chocolate pancakes.

the thought is so dreadful,

I’d rather swallow it whole than learn how to swallow a pill again.

everything has a connection to something else,

and I hate it.

I hate the thought that I cannot do things I enjoy anymore because they all 

remind me or tie my back to something I know I’ve experienced before with a

connection.

but most importantly I think I’ll always still love it.

and embrace the everlasting idea of joy I experienced something valuable that

has a connection tied within,

or even the hatred within too,

the things I’ve experienced only give me

                                                                        déjà vu

                                                                                they don’t value my experiences of a time.