Sex.

At first, there is writhing.
Churning and burning.
Desire.

Later, there is routine.
Boredom.
Wandering minds.

There are kids.
Exhaustion.
Dirty hair and clothes.

Later, there is alcohol.
More fun, for a while.
Disgusting and unappealing later.

Then, there is nothing.
Nothing.
Nothing.

But when it is gone,
Really gone,
You realize that it doesn't matter.

It was broken, yes.
But it broke because you were broken.
You should have refused to break.

Sought healing.
Sought serenity.
Sought yourself.

You will not find it again,
Unless you know,
Exactly where to look.