whether

driving into the morning, the fog
kissed the horizon, the light
faded into gold air
and i thought of how you must
have felt, blooming at the prime
of your spring, and
i thought of how you left
knowing you were going to leave

and i wonder if that felt anything like
the air that afternoon
that suffocated my lungs
and clung to my skin, i thought
that maybe thats how it felt
to dig your new home, to wait
to leave, to not know when
your legs would take you there.

that night, the rain cut through the air
and the lightning kept striking
even after the rain had stopped pouring,
and i thought maybe thats how the
tears of those you left behind stopped
falling
and how their hearts kept striking
even after the day ended,
well into the next morning.

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