Under grey skies staring at grounded stars. Long drives with the place that I still call home in mind. Long nights and I still call home sometimes. We're close to being far from where we're from.
And I fell short of the mark. And I'm not sure if I can feel it still.
I let years go by and now you don't know who I am when you look in my eyes and neither do I.
While I was waiting for something something weighed for a while on my life.
From the stairs where I first heard the words that put me in this endless reach for something real, to teach myself the end is maybe closer. Closure may be over when the questions find their answers like, we're distant, we're still connected.
This all could dissipate with thought if I let it.
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