She is in her moon tonight.
Exhaling the waves and singing love songs. (songs she was taught at a young age and still did not understand)
We haven’t met yet but I wait for her in this moonlight.

I watch her as she washes her
hair in the white beams
and cries tears of loneliness.

Let’s stop writing about the truth— let’s tell of lies.
Let’s escape this place, darlin.
It’s ****** us dry.
Let’s find a new place to thrive.

You’re a hot mess.
I know.