This is Not a Confession

This is not
A confession,
But

Every few months,
As if on cue,
I fall into this abyss

Of sudden loneliness.
I forget what it must
Feel like to be myself.

I am weighed down,
I am shelled and separated,
Drowning through days

That would rather forget me.
I bob languidly through hours,
Sleep and eat recklessly,

And when I’ve found my dregs,
I think of you.
You, standing there,

Smiling, laughing,
And lighting dreams
With your hazy eyes.

And reminding me
That this whole mess
Isn’t important or real,

And you make me Believe
That anything is possible
In this distance.