Drifting

Feelings can be like stinging bees. Ripping themselves apart to break free. Colorful balloons in a cloudless sky, flaunting their strings. My fingers closing around what's already gone.

The past continues to tug on the present. I almost believe that it’s better when it hurts like this. Knowing that I can still feel pain. That my heart hasn’t hardened to the point where it will never feel anything again.

I let it all go. Confident I will catch it again.