Can't Be Arsed

I find these grains of what was slipping swiftly in the soft winds of the early fall. Sometimes your presence, memories of, graces me with lovely and lovable moments that we shared. But most of the times, I can't be arsed. Nonchalance and careless emotions drain the life out of what was, much like you had done. I can't be arsed to sympathize. I can't be arsed to empathize. I can't be arsed to love.

But I want to so bad. I want to feel, breathe, bleed, devote myself to Love. I want Love to take authority. I want life to be simple again.