I just thought I’d write you once before I head up North

As a reminder of what we had and how good the South is

To remind me where we’ve been and where I’m going

As a reminder not to wish you back

If shortwaves are found they can be left unfurnished

In the catering silence I find less then content

But that doesn’t mean you didn’t need to leave me

Leaving doesn’t mean you were the weaker person

I wasn’t strong enough to leave is how I finally see it

If being crystal clear with our selves  is some sort of honor,

Neither of us either earned or won it yet

If measuring success is our antithesis

Perspective must have been the anesthetic


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