running past the same corner. they all look the same, in every town, in every city. you remember the house you used to pass in the morning and it's hundreds of miles away. but you swear you just passsed it again on your morning run. it jogged some difficult memories. it loosened some thoughtful ones, about victorian houses with purple shutters and streets lined with cherry blossoms pink and white. how the rage was outdoor ponds lit up at night where large goldfish swam back and forth wondering, wondering...where the hell am i now?

how you used to sneak half smoked butts, menthol always sucked. how you snuck a hand inside his limp coat pocket to find a little baggie and sharply folded playing card. how you packed your ragtag furniture and told him to kiss your sweet ass goodbye.