i am spinning off-kilter,

on the fourteenth of june,

in the center of my cookie cutter kitchen,

at 11:01pm,

trying to convince myself,

for the third time of that day,

that i,

in fact,

am a real human being.

i allow him to grasp my hand.

to try and straighten out my axis, to convince me we are dancing,

twirling to the melody of silence as a smile begins to protrude from my face,

                                                                                                                                   but slowly pitters out as the silence gets louder.

to the naked eye, it is a vision of euphoria.

a pirouette-filled wonder painting a tiled canvas,

spurting warm, tender love and affection.

a snapshot of teenage romance, a cinematic masterpiece.

i watch it from afar,

wishing i could feel what i was perceiving,

but floating further away into the comfort of numbness.