I come to your mind occasionally, from the background noise of your life, and you remember,
The blurred face you passed in the night time crowd,
Shadows that the lights cast upon the sidewalk, as I pass,
And I leave with the noise of flimsy shoes on muddy sidewalks.
.
I come from the other side of the bonfire, the heat waves obstructing your vision just enough to make you question yourself,
Sitting too far from the flames to keep myself warm, but not far enough to get away from the smoke
Smoke enveloping lungs, so that I smell it on my clothes when I excuse myself to go inside for a break,
And I leave when you stop for a cough, and you might not notice the empty space until you regain breath.
.
I come from the panic that hides behind my persona,
That gives you an odd sense of unease, but not enough of such to make you uncomfortable,
When I will do my best, albeit in vain, to force forward my rib-cage and allow myself a breath,
And I leave a little too quickly, far earlier than I promised, with no explanation and a self-hatred that will leave me nauseous for hours after you fall asleep.
.
I come from the steady pair of arms that lift you off of the bathroom floor at my brother's party,
Everyone has left you, and your tears fall, inebriated and unashamed,
They left you, they left you, they left you, and you make me promise that I will not.
And I cannot leave, so I add my name to your cell contacts, and though we only ever speak from time to time, it is never just small talk.
.
I come from the get-togethers, in your best friend's basement, and I seem vaguely familiar but not familiar enough,
I am the friend of a friend who seems as thought I have everything sorted out, my eyes are full of life and I am inviting though completely forgettable,
And one day I will break the manic pixie dream facade, and you find that you would rather keep me as a memory of what could have been than who I really must be,
And you recognize that I am as bland as you originally expected,
And I am not the one who leaves this time.
.
I come from melodramatics, annoyingly self-destructive,
In which I think a bit too hastily, and live a bit too erratically,
In which I unbound, but not free, and I have forced myself to accept certain accords
In which I have made friends fast and gone just as quickly, though I cannot ignore the dry guilt scratching in my throat as I try to explain that I have to leave.
.
I come from fluctuation in personality, but unwavering loyalty,
In which I may not see you often, and you wont know the side of me that you'll get at any given time,
Though I will promise you that I like to see you, I cannot prove it through action,
And I leave wishing that I could drown out the lingering negativity that is swallowing my will.
.
I come from not so much a place, but an ideal
That I simply cannot get out of, in a hostile fidelity that has thus far remained stubborn,
Because I can leave a group, or a part of me, behind, but I can never leave the people I love,
And I may even leave myself for a short while, if you ask me to.
.
I come from a history of broken tales with broken people, from breaking down barriers inside of myself, to breaking down on old bedroom floors,
I come from a life that I have come to regret, although I will ultimately make no effort to change, so all wish for change in futile,
I come from a history of questionable decisions and indefinable motives, always ready for the situation that never works out the way I would think,
I come from the lingering memories of people that I cannot get away from.
.
And I leave with my eyes on the ground, accompanied by the knowledge that the people who I will continue to disappoint have continued to accept me,
I have grown out of much of what I thought I was, but the bonds I have created on the way ensure that I will someday be able to escape the scars it has left imprinted into my skin,
I have left, but I have not forgotten. I don't think that I can.
I come from the memories of them, and for the hell that it has been, I know that I would never change it.
ns 15.158.61.37da2
