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36 miles and I’m pulling my words out like tacky glue Stickily, messily, reluctantly they release And I paste them together in clumpy strings Desperate for them to convey what I mean While still hiding the patches I’ve pasted 31 miles and anxiety gnaws me like rust on metal Because we’ve unfolded that map To figure out where we are Even though we know this road leads only one place And even the busiest roads can lead to a dead end 28 miles and I’m watching the snow cling to the fences Just thinking, I’m fine, I’m just thinking (And keeping the tears sticking on the inside) Wondering if I have marks I haven’t noticed If that sticky, dirty residue was left with each pull Wondering the shape it will leave this time 14 miles and the sun is setting The miles disappearing quicker than super glue dries We were quick too, a fast acting design Sticking, but with no foundation of strength Attached, with words we can’t … cash 9 miles and I’m stuck dwelling again On the creature that stays behind my curtain I know what it hides but won’t bring it to light Unyielding, it burns with guilty self-preservation But it’s shadow has been seen 5 miles and we’ve packed it all together Gluing together the edges until we rip it open again Knowing it will be just as sticky next time And hurt just the same 4 miles and I patch up my corners Closing my vulnerabilities 3 miles and I refuse to be stone cold Emotion is my game 2 miles and I wonder if it’s just duct tape after all ---- 1 mile and fingers brush mine One block and I close my eyes Because I know I know. I stick. And then I pull. I ask for sticky. And I stick . . . Until I pull.