north by northwest
there are nights when i remember the people i've left behind. nights when my eyes ache for the rear-view mirror and my ears struggle to pick out the notes to all our old favorite songs.
it's been years now and these nights still find me. unprepared, it seems i'm still reeling. it seems i'm still trying to find out if i have enough upper body strength to drag myself from the floor and find a softer place to lay my head.
i don't miss your voice. i don't miss your face. i miss the days that led into nights that led into days where i felt secure. i was at home, hundreds of miles away. my eyes ache for the rear-view mirror. for the signs that led me to each exit i took to find secondary housing.
now i'm realizing that as far as i stretched myself away from my home, as far as my limbs reached out to hold on to something, anything. i am too close to the things that, while they no longer haunt me, are a constant reminder of what i would see if i looked back for even a moment. these thoughts no