I walked by myself, tasting crab meat and forcing the jingle of clouds away from my face. This was my lovely home, with no one else to roam around me. I breathe sweetly today, ignoring the rush of the in going traffic, or the highlights in my hair. I just keep walking, going no where on this road that has stop painted in heavenly white letters leading me lower to the ground, this desert hole of mismatched buildings like the quilt my grandmother sewn my mother into a dress. I think you’d like this last line, the way the pavement correlates to the glow of the morning dusk. I can’t believe I’m still thinking about you when you’re so far away. I swear, sometimes you’re a leech inside of my mind. You hated roads- always begging me to drive freeways when my heart and my driving abilities couldn’t last that long without slipping into the want of death. The cars would whiz by me, and your hands would go crawling on my thighs again. Excuse me while my brain cells vomit. I slip back into reality, realizing that my hand isn’t held, that my neck is still attached to this body, and that my lips feel crispy and wounded from lack of moisture. The cold air kisses my face and I’m back to this girl again.
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