I slip on intricacies that I thought I lost in my runaways. I try to hide the fact that I can see you everywhere. That I could be twelve million miles away and trace your echoes still. I wish and miss for the days I could pluck out a laugh from you. Now I just catch the leftovers that everyone else resonates. I thought I was a mountain, but maybe I am just the wind. Easily lost and easily unseen. I could be everywhere, I could be nothing.