Even some of the darkest things can shine differently in the rose-tinted hue of the rearview mirror.

Especially when it reflects the roads that aren't even there to drive down anymore.

I've sworn before, that I'll never venture those paths again.
But sometimes I find myself wandering aimlessly and then,
lo and behold,
here I am,
parked in front of that same old oak and thinking about only God knows when.

Random tidbits of ragged laundry hung out to dry a century ago.
And forgotten about,
until just now.

But it's hard not to say, that I miss the way those old threads clung to my body. The sway they held over me when I wore them. Way back then, when I slid through them everyday.

Everyday, just spent sliding away.

And now I've come back.