just another thought

I’d almost forgotten that feeling I once got after every film ending. 

after every heart-pounding climax and serene equilibrium and rolling credits, 

it had once left my skin a foul sort of sensation I couldn’t place, 

like a dread, a buzz of lingering adrenaline maybe? 

If such a sensation could be so foul. 

I’d forgotten, because I didn’t feel that anymore. 

Not until recently, 

and only now in my, not old, but older and wiser years, 

I come to understand it as the 

sensation of reality seeping back into my skin, 

after such a narrative, 

such a story, 

such a storm of emotions, 

comes a blank day, 

of no sun, no wind, no rain, 

just bleak reality. 

And though I am older now, I still cannot 

bring to terms if it was a sensation I very much

enjoyed, 

or if it was dread indeed, 

and in dread I buried a loathing for reality.