All of the going back and forth between airports and heartbeats left him wishing for more than love one night at a time. He was so far from content, coming alive between her sheets and the pauses of breath.
The fog was thick but the tension never was. Making excuses instead of making moves was his home life then.
Dull and boring like the world he was slowly losing grasp of. Becoming another corpse in a funeral procession. He wanted to run a red light just to see the look on everyone else's face and erase their conclusions.
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