smells like vanilla, tastes like cotton candy
pick your gravestone ho
my sweet summer glow burned for a star that was too bright for me
Lick the wound till it’s raw.
What will life look like 2 years from now?
Can I hear the train whistle between the brush of trees?
The howling of coyotes and roars of mountain lions,
Maybe I’ll be cruising down the golden coast.
I’m hungry for it.
Dry toast and black coffee from a waitress named Diane
It’s not just surviving anymore
I’ll feel at home once the ocean breeze hits my face,
Once it takes my hair between its salty grasp.
I’ll feel whole
Unrecognizable
Unknown.
On my own
No one to please
Just me and a couple sand fleas.