1-21-16 sixty days clean
I write love letters to the things that lie inside of my head.
Tonight's victim is a place I've come to adore.

Dear Sadistic Streets and Memory Ridden Houses,

How many days do we have left?

Will I watch you fade away on the other side of this car window while I watch it all fog over?

Will I get glimpses of you and nothing more?

Will I feel empty in a place that I can only see holding hell, miles away from you?

No place quite replaces you..

I hate to think that I'm wasting precious hours with you.

It'll be over someday,

Please tell me I don't have to live to see it happen.

Sure,

I hate it here.

I'm ready to let go of sleepwalking through a close knit hallway.

But I'd miss you so bad.

Don't say goodbye.

This is a paved road to my roots.

I don't care if you can drive through your veins in seven minutes if you end up stuck at the red light for five minutes.

I love that you know every one of my memories, all the good, all the bad.

But you're swimming in negativity.

And maybe some part of me resonantes with that.
- (m.m)