Pent up words released with swift fury create a one way street. Irrevocable.
In 3 short days, we travel full circle – back now, at the starting line.
No longer do we race towards good times, intimate laughter. Our tracks no longer create flying sparks.

Instead we drive down a barren desert of empty roads. The howling winds create an unfamiliar sound, and they push us into separate tunnels.

But despite our diverged paths, I still have all these expectations that you have no obligation to meet. I seethe in frustration, and try my best to hide my disappointment.

In this darkness, we will reach light.




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