Call them back home when you’re worthy. Look what we did. It’s scattered all over the town like we never left. Absence is a strong feeling. It’s permanent. Shut my eyes and see the red glow from staring at the sun for too long. That’s where I want to live. And you may call me fake but I’ll peel back every later for the sake of feeling free again. I’m the villain and the hero- I’ll choose which one I want to play depending on how I feel. And when we crossed the bend, past the creek to the other side of town, I knew the clouds rotated differently. That always stuck in my brain- past the memories of sun kissed palms and summer fever. Finality feels like breaking and never putting yourself back together fully. And when everyone says my name I hear it like a choir. An untuned chorus. A haunting crescendo. It wakes me in my sleep and reminds me that the world has eyes on everything we do. The world isn’t forgiving. The world waits for your knees to buckle under its pressure. I’ve been falling silently every since. I’m not worthy of the praise. I think you know that too. I write love notes to my former self in brail because I can’t see clearly anymore. I feel the seasons like pine needles grazing my skin- and still, I never bloom. I’m stuck in this mystery between this town and the rest of the world. It holds me captive and the ransom is your word. It’s okay, I know you could never honor it. Just call me back home when you’re worthy. AMT