and i'm standing across
from your house again.
only this street doesn't mean anything anymore.
it doesn't mean laughter or friendship.
its just a street.
with tar and snow and ice.
and every now and then
a fake smile.

cars came and went.
and all of a sudden
it was just a street.
and strangely
that's ok.
tires drive over the tar and memories
and the effort fades along with the painted yellow lines.

i said goodbye to that street along the way
and i didn't know it.
and it's ok
for it to be tar and snow and ice.
maybe one day
the street will be cleaner again.

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