The echo of laughter, not mine, bouncing off brick buildings, that sudden electric ache behind my eyes, joy and grief tangled together, like trying to separate the strands of a spiderweb, i felt winded by it, like i'd just run a marathon and then tripped on the finish line and what does that even mean, a marathon of feeling, just trying to get through the day without dissolving, and then someone laughs, a child, and it’s a reminder that some people still get to feel things purely, without the layer of ash, the ever-present taste of guilt in everything, i wonder if i can taste the iced matcha anymore… or if it's just a vehicle for what i’m already swallowing anyway.