Do you think the long way home still feels the same? We haven’t driven it in so long. Your dad says it’s filled with potholes and I still wonder what’s buried beneath them. You can’t drive down these roads without the same people who once lured you into the dark. The sting won’t burn as much- there’s no thrill in it. I want us to gather in the same woods with the same truths we never spoke of. I want us to spill our guts in empty palms and carry what’s left of us. Tell me what changed for you. Say it like you mean it. Let it crack through your vocal cords and echo like a drum. You own the entirety of every space you occupy. You’re the main character, so twist the plot like a threat. Throw all the other characters overboard. Drown for a while if you need to, but remember that you have the power to come back up for air. Take every way home that feels right, as long as you end up there without a scratch. Stumble through the doorway laughing and crying and caring. Eat cake off the fine china. Throw every paper and dribble across the floor. Make a beautiful mess and watch how it turn into a masterpiece. -AMT ©️