Laughter

I laughed today.

I did, and then I stopped. I stopped because it wasn’t real. I stopped because the fluidity of my laughter was different than it was before. It was no longer molded to fit in my mouth. Laughter is a hard silver, a chunk of gold unable to flow out, only to be swallowed, never to be heard. It pivots around my tongue trying to find the perfect fit in an area where it’s moist and warm. Turns and turns until it can find a notch at least in my throat, it doesn’t find it. It keeps turning, churning, igniting flames of nothingness.

I laughed.

I didn’t like it, not the sound, the resonance, or even the pitch.

But I liked the feeling.

So I will do it again.

I will keep laughing until the silver dies out and the gold crumbles between my teeth.

I will keep laughing until it’s real.