theres a certain feeling about it.

when yer feet scruff the carpet and the dust flies up into my nose, i can see that in slow motion, the tennis shoes as they back away and turn around, the wind sneaking through the door making me colder as you smile sweetly and leave.its like this image of blue jeans that will never leave my mind, creases and spots and rips, patched and unpatched, always moving always warm.

the softness of a face in a picture tells me again of things that are lost. there was a light around it, a glow that shows through in the image that tells me, this is the image, the slight look of anger, that look of anger and fear and love and happiness and annoyance all at once. that look that i saw more and more often and let the distance come in and fill up this crack that had appeared, filled it up and burst it all. im a fool for not seeing the distance behind that look and running through it, running past it and closing it off. i think thats me though, always seeing something going a bit away and being too afraid to move, too afraid to make the wrong decision.