Log #1: Gone Girl.

She is a perfect stranger who I do not know any longer.
I anticipated a love like we had observed in melodrama movies.
Neither of us speak to another the same way we used to.
This is a battle within the writer fighting for the truth.
I’ll bring the city within the rear-view and departure.
I keep a half tank of gas to rush away, and for the joyride.
I sang you a mess of songs while you lied in my bed.
I drew lines between the dots while you rested in my head.

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