My mind is is a rock, and it hangs heavily over everything I do, while my heart...
Oh, my heart. It is pulling me East. To the "you" that spared me one evening of your fame-ridden life. The "you" that awoke burgeoning wants I only dreamt I had. I want to leave myself. I want to desert what I have spent years building (and at the moment am finally coming to appreciate).
Everything. Uprooted, for you. Never have I so badly screamed for a dream life. Deep discussions about mundane obscurities, guitar harmonies, late-night slow dances, and your laughter colliding into the walls until we're laying in ruins, under a soft veil of stars.
I want to come sweetly undone. And everyone, all the while, watching in awe.
I don't think there is room for me here. Here, in this landlocked jungle, where everyone is a recycled version of both their true selves and the selves they let fall. Where everyone is fighting over the scraps of brilliance that pass, flighty, through this town. As a dream, you disappear with the morning.
I want to see. The way they all scream for you. The way your hair frames your eyes when you smile. This is entirely too much.
I can feel the strong hands of the universe.
And they are ripping me apart.
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