Walk on by...
...she doesn't live here anymore, but you can feel her presence as you drink your morning coffee, good to the last drop. The screen door rests tiredly on its rustic hinges as it swings back and fourth, you appear out over your vacant lawn and realize this is the end. Set down the dream and move on with the day, it will come back to you, it always dose.
The abandon parking lot, across from your work where you used too met her after close, has become an occupied with other couples, as they sit on ceramic, breathing heavy in the winters air. It's become a hang out for all the lovers.... the parking lot's never looked the same.
...Once more you look behind you, waiting frost bitten hands around your pale neck.
You left your scarf at my place sweetie...
You try you best to walk on, find the warmth of a streetlight, or the embers of your second pack today. You think back to all those nights, and how this one is going to be another to throw on the fire...20 min walk home, takes hours.
.... The door is jarred to the right, as break down in tears....
Welcome home...it's been a while.
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