The Reason

Departure strikes and sinks in the burrows beneath my skin. A week long fade of everything beautiful ends in nothing more than strange street corners at late hours where not a waking soul ventures. Street lights illuminate nothing here. Out on the streets are so many possibilities to not be alone. This is Death Cab suited.

8 Hours reminds me just how long the maps stretch along the walls and how big the bed beneath them grows. We all have living room. Border lines the space between times I didn't know and couldn't breath. I'm reminded of dreams by late night, waited, phone calls. These are my air.

With wet cheeks I regret the substantial inability to include among those dozens of tiny notes this entire thought process. That you're the part of the world that is bright. And you're the part of the world that sings. That you're the reason that while I'm where I've been before, I'm suddenly lost within my own evaporated thoughts. And, above all else in this world, that you are my love.
Now more than ever.

Taylor J. Pridgen

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