(no subject)
road,
i think of your curvature. of how i'd lay my head on the window where the frost would part slightly and i'd watch the ground blur together into smooth lines that took me some where, took me everywhere, brought me here. i think some how you've messed me up in between. of how home seems a little more weighted because it's a place that never moves and never changes. it's a constant as you are the exact opposite, changing and growing and moving everything around. but i can't get the idea of you out of my head. i can't stop the idea of i was a mess before, i was almost non-existent during, and i am a mess after. i hate that you didn't change me except to show me that location doesn't mean fucking anything. you are who you are along your soft body regardless of how you lay yourself. that idea wears me out every single day. the idea that i can't run anywhere next to you unless i find strength in my knees but you won't wait for that. it has to happen now or it's never going to happen is an idea that i refuse to accept. i wish i had never met you, never known you, never traveled with you until i was bare-boned, until i exhausted myself out on exhaustion, until i existed until non-existence was too much. because after you brought me here, after a soft-faced boy with soft features stole me and put me back home i still feel like i'm gone somewhere with you. like i left myself some where and you won't give me back, etc.