Vanessa,
I saw you again yesterday walking on the side of the road and if you saw me back. You didn't show it. I saw you and I was twenty-one and if the world didn't revolve around Mountain Dew, Camel Wides, and you....I didn't know it. The uncertainty of where I began and you ended, Oklahoma City in the moonlight, the taste, the smell of your breath. I can't recall who broke who first. All I know is the night you left and drew the line where you thought we should be separate. The things you took with you. The things you left behind, divvied up and changed from ours to yours never seemed right. And all the nights I'd lain awake listening for the sound of your step, the turn of your key ran together like a marathon of late-night t.v. All the meals from Taco Bell crumpled white on the hardwood floor, like my hope that I would die of a vitamin deficiency. Then one day I left, all dirty jeans and gasoline. Never looked back to see if you were coming. I've switched to Camel lights since then, and I'm too good for Taco Bell now. But sometimes, I can still smell you somewhere between sleep and waking. And sometimes I still think you took too much or not enough.
Me
I saw you again yesterday walking on the side of the road and if you saw me back. You didn't show it. I saw you and I was twenty-one and if the world didn't revolve around Mountain Dew, Camel Wides, and you....I didn't know it. The uncertainty of where I began and you ended, Oklahoma City in the moonlight, the taste, the smell of your breath. I can't recall who broke who first. All I know is the night you left and drew the line where you thought we should be separate. The things you took with you. The things you left behind, divvied up and changed from ours to yours never seemed right. And all the nights I'd lain awake listening for the sound of your step, the turn of your key ran together like a marathon of late-night t.v. All the meals from Taco Bell crumpled white on the hardwood floor, like my hope that I would die of a vitamin deficiency. Then one day I left, all dirty jeans and gasoline. Never looked back to see if you were coming. I've switched to Camel lights since then, and I'm too good for Taco Bell now. But sometimes, I can still smell you somewhere between sleep and waking. And sometimes I still think you took too much or not enough.
Me
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