after hours

my favorite part is the part where I spin in circles figuring out where I went wrong, never where we got lost. regret when our paths crossed, leaves scattered on an empty road that I thought I could fill. flooded a street with no street lights. spin circles around the same roads, dizzy in the web of lies I feed myself. I bury truths too deep under to ever unearth. and they tend to spring from beneath the ground and I try to bury it 6 feet under, but it stays on my mind. it’s thrilling, how often I tend to ponder life and death and left and right and not here but over there and the truth stands 6 feet tall in front of me, never 6 feet under. in a figure still very much alive, but dead to me.