Remember when a corridor and four bare walls in private kept you together? When fifteen minute walks towards the sun led you to angels and plagues, to evenings by the woods and a glass menagerie? You were sleepless on air under the ceiling, under the sky, under the moon. Cotton blue and white twinkles spared you the complete darkness and emptiness. The consequence of sound kept you from solitude while a well-spoken poet drifted you into the land of words and stirred you to speak up. She granted inspiration as easily and thoughtlessly as breathing. What was the name of that face, and those friends you made you haven’t seen since? You miss them all, I know. You easily miss because that’s your way and in a place of constant change, spin, and new it hurts, I get it. New windows; long, tall, and wide. Different sights to see, moving pictures of life. Your reality on display. Are you looking? Lying on the carpet by an overstuffed animal next to friends you felt you were falling, with pleasure and ease even when you eventually fell asleep on your bed. Days with glasses of wine won over the hours locked behind doors. The thing is you never bumped into walls, you hugged them like people. Remember when you caught that tear with your finger? You didn’t know it was there. And when you realized your phone worked better than paper and it made you so sad you almost despaired? You looked forward to piercing blue eyes and warm husky voices. They were the reason for many things, where did they go? They lasted a while, and it was sweet. Unlike the pieces of paper, that spat open-ended questions in your direction, and it made you uncomfortable. How did you deal? Moments like that you couldn’t conjure up anything pithy to say. You felt like an idiot and you mentally unraveled in front of your peers, guts on display, your face a twitch and violent red. You carved paths of destruction those days you decided to ignore, and they were the saddest. Like not living. Livid tones and a panic rush, you knew then you’ve gotta sway yourself a little bit harder. Cups of coffee, healed all. Empty pizza boxes by the mattress and bags of treats made everything alright. Looking back is hard, like forgetting you lived. Faces blur into nothing, and names get lost in a space of things that don’t make it past the month. But you fall in love with strangers everyday. You wipe your mind clean, and the body still misses.