I come to your mind slowly, from the background of your life,
The blurred face you pass in the crowd every day,
The shadows that the lights in the city that cast upon the sidewalk as we make small talk, smelling each other's heat of breath.
And I leave with the patter of dress shoes on muddy sidewalks.
.
I come from the other side of the bonfire heat, the waves of heat obstructing your vision just enough to make you unsure,
Sitting too close to the flames, sweat staining my forehead and chest, you will wonder if it is the same me,
The smoke enveloping my lungs, and yours,
And I leave when you break for a cough, and do not notice the empty space until you regain breath.
.
I come from the exchanged glances in the hallways of a school, or maybe a workplace,
When we both know we are supposed to be somewhere, yet neither of us are troubled enough to hurry,
I will likely crack a smile of introduction, or nod, or completely ignore you as I am completely unaware of my surroundings.
And I leave you with not a single word, yet you will feel that we understand each other. We will likely understand each other.
.
I come from the strong pair of arms that you fall into in the bathroom of the party,
As your tears fall, a little too drunkenly, at the timed pace of your heavy breaths,
They left you, they left you, they left you, and I promise you that I will not. I promise you that I will stay if you need me.
And I do not leave you, I add my name to your cell contacts, and though we only ever speak from time to time, there is never small talk, all of the talk is serious and sad and invigorating.
.
I come from the small get-togethers, in your best friend's basement
I am the friend of a friend who seems to good to be true, my eyes are full of life and I am a risky and unavoidable dream,
Until I am no longer your manic pixie dream girl, and you find that you would rather keep me as a memory of what could have been
And you recognize that I am as bland as every other person, and you soon forget me as you once forgot that everyone is, by themselves, uninteresting.
.
I come from melodramatics,
In which I refuse to accept anything less than the last word,
In which I live free and wild and probably a bit too self-destructively
In which I have lived fast and gone just as quickly, and I cannot ignore the dry scratching in my throat as I try to explain myself.
.
I come from fluctuating personalities, and self-destructive behavior,
I do not control my behavior because I thrive on honesty,
Know that I will love you, and I will trust you, and I will invite you into my past an you will read me like an open book, I will hide nothing from you.
And I will leave you if you wish me to, without conflict, without question, and I will always respect you for choosing to push me away.
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I come from, not a place, but a history, a multitude of people
T^hat I refuse to stray from, in a hostile yet inescapable loyalty
That i refuse to leave, although I have left every town, and many people
I will never leave those who love me, no matter the miles,
And I will never leave myself, no matter the pressure to do so.
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I come from a past of broken tales and broken people, from breaking down barriers between us to breaking down on the bathroom floor.
I come from a life that I have come to regret, although I will make no effort to change, because to change would be a betrayal to myself and to all of them.
I come from a history of bad decisions, yet I stand unwavering, unafraid, unabashed.
I come from the lingering memories of people that I cannot get away from.
.
And I leave with my nose in the air, accompanied by the knowledge that people across the nation, across the world, remember me and know me, and I love them.
I have left where I have come from, but the bonds I have created on the way ensure that I will never be able to get their influence, their scent, out of me.
I have left, but I have not forgotten. I will never forget.
We come from the memories of each other, and I trust all of them to do the same.
ns 15.158.61.20da2
