That blanket of velvet sky reels me into another reverie, and the streetlamps mark the boulevard that I hand-pressed my finest dreams into. I want to create a memory for you – one so beautiful in colour and forever magnetizing in story that you will dedicate your youth to chasing another like it.

That metaphorical whirlwind of autumnal leaves strike up again, and it is the summer of ’16. You and I were back in the Falls, weaving through your childhood streets and reminiscing on our love. I had left the dusty streets of steel city for a neon jungle built on late night thoughts, and he became my rock during every moment of weakness. A rock I loved in ways that cannot be undone, but I know better now. For he was no rock – he was a person, and people move – on.

That moment remains picturesque in my decaying memories – he leaned down to kiss me right before the gates closed. I shut my eyes, because it had been a rare moment, a raw sort of love that faded when we left it all behind; sown together only to be torn apart.

My mind rages forward, for when do I let it all go?

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