The world is my oyster, but I'm allergic to shellfish.

Brown eyes,
reflected in tide pools of blue.

Nostalgia covers you like a wave,  
and warms you for a moment.

But when it recedes,
it only leaves a cold reminder of its absence.

I found a bunch of my old writing today.

None of it seemed to move me the way you used to.

Do your legs ever feel restless?
Because mine do. All the time.
I think about breaking your heart, but not in the traditional sense.
I won't leave you for another.
I won't leave you because I fell out of love.
I'll leave you because I can't escape myself; and why cause two casualties where one would suffice?
Yes. I'll break your heart. I'll run away, and you'll never hear from me again.
But please believe it's not because I don't love you.
I love you more than the feeling I get when a plane takes off, and the possibility of somewhere new becomes a reality.
I love you more than Sunday mornings, with the sun peering in the Windows.
I love you more than I hate myself. Which is why I have to break your heart.
Please don't miss me. I'll love you forever, but someday you'll forget the brown eyed girl you used to know. And you'll remember what it's like to feel free.

Oh dear, I'm a little lost again
Which ways home?