it's the small perfect moments that make the bad ones sting more, i think. that pure bright note of a kid laughing… it landed somewhere heavy, and i felt the press of years, unlived moments, against my ribs and now the ghost of perfume is choking me. but there's also…this weird surge like getting away with something, but getting away from what, i have no idea not sure why i'm even putting this here. maybe it's that now everything is spring, the air is warm so i don't brace myself anymore, but something always lingers below, you know?