are you even over me? how can you be, when everything reminds me of you? I hate to say it, but it's not fair that I want to come back here together, to this ghost town, cigarette butts older than both of us, and share the stillness. I don't know how I got here and I hope the directions on my phone get me home safe, even though I'd rather burn my battery talking to you instead. anyways, you won't get this message, you won't see this text, you won't pin this place on the map, and that's okay, just know that even this-a broken-down, empty, worn-out, rusted, dry dry dry, old midwestern town, made me think of you.

there is little excuse for feeling uninspired for more than 3 days in a row. yes, maybe you stayed at home for a few days and didn't feel anything new or fresh, but what if I told you it's possible to be inspired by anything? cliché? maybe, yea. but true? without a doubt! there is beauty in the mundane, so much. (can you see it?)

this girl writes too damn much! ANOTHER poem about ANOTHER place? wrap it up! enough, enough, ENOUGH!!!

a poem for the girls who have never experienced romance!!!!! (is there a substitute for experience?)

dare i think a place is selfish for going on without me, when i feel that this new place has come to define a part of me, what do i call home now?