It is October and I am anxious and in a place I don’t want to be in. I just want to go home.

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Brb throwing myself into traffic.

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"Cling to me," you said before prying me out of your once welcoming arms. "I’ll be your shelter in the storm."

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People talk, but no one ever really knows the truth. 

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And just like that,
I exhaled you out.
You’re more toxic,
Than the cigarette,
Between my lips.

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Homecoming.

You are coming home.
To a house that never changes,
Warm Sunday dinners,
And a life that is controlled.
Because distance and time,
Doesn’t make the heart,
Grow anything except cold.

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Cleaning. Remembering. Missing. Loving.

Cleaning. Remembering. Missing. Loving.

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In the confusion and the aftermath, you are my signal fire.
No, I won’t wait forever.

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A sea of memories,
An ocean of grudges,
Will I learn to float on?

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I think I’ll go to Florida. 

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