Require

A plane trip through this pre-dawn - back in time and time zones- is all it would really require...

For long, lazy walks and movies every night and mass transit rides through tunnels and across the interstate overpass.
For hours of conversation in dimly lit bars with $2 well drink happy hours, stirring my drink until the ice melts and leaving it watered down. For a blush that extends from my chin to my cheeks, hidden behind my glass. A sly smile where I bite my bottom lip to keep myself from talking,

there are things I need to tell you.

All it would take. For a chance. For pitchers of beer next to the pool table, picking stray cat hairs off your shirt. Sitting on the front stoop.
Leaning in, laughing quietly.

I can see myself on the sidewalks, reflected in the stoplights clicking red to green, waiting for the crosswalk. It's all stop and go with me these days.

I miss you. I'm tired. There's things I need to tell you. There are places we need to find.
I tire of this mindfulness. This minding of manners, of marbles, of business, of p's and q's.
I tire of this wakefulness. Of midnight, of 1 am, of last call and bar close, of staring at the ceiling trying to sleep.
I tire of this loud music, these same familiar strangers, these dead-end cul-de-sac streets, this creeping weight gain, this elusive sunshine.
Of this ineffectual screaming. These wasted warnings.

I miss you. There are things I need to tell you.