Benny ran away from home On his 17th birthday. His parents called him a problem child. Neighbors called him a menace. Teachers called him a waste of potential. I called him my best friend.
Kinda cliché if you think about it, “star student” befriending the kid on the wrong side of the track. But that’s only because I saw him for who he really was. I saw him as someone quick with a laugh. Someone ...
**Maybe I got use to the sounds of broken promises confessed in hushed tones under black skies**
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**Maybe I got use to split time holidays and handoff weekends**
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**Maybe I got use to the stars painting my bedroom ceiling being replaced by an un lived in room and shut doors**
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**Maybe they’ll get use to it so I don’t have to be**
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**Maybe they’ll remember they use to be friends **
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I spend most of my nights wandering.
I stumble to the places that bring back the moments we use to have together.
What an awful thought.
The Past tense of it all.
When did that begin to be the very thing that described us best?
Past tense.
We are no longer long nights with laughter and Moans that bleed into daylight.
Mornings filled with coffee and running late goodbye kisses.
Afte...