every time i closed my eyes i saw myself running.
running through the trees, down the street, chasing.
who knows what i'm chasing.
Running down a dirt road laughing
as the lightening bugs light up the forest around me
its like breathing for the very first time.
its freeing.
i'm free.
i'm back home where i'm suppose to be.
but the midwest isn't home to much.
cornfields, forests, and dirt roads.
home is where the heart is
and my home is whenever i close my eyes
and i'm running and happy
i'm where i used to be.

how many times do you sit alone in your room whispering to yourself
"he doesn't love me"
over and over again
and when are you going to give up
and realize you've
been right all along.

People don't tell you sadness
weighs a thousand pounds.

it was 8:21 pm and i had checked
my phone for the 78th time.
even though i was the one to ignore you,
i was hoping you would still try.
this wasn't me.
i used to not be like this.
for the first time in a long time
i bought myself some ******* flowers,
poured a glass of wine, and made some cookies.
for myself.

it turns out that
the answers aren't
at the bottom of a
Svedka bottle.

how many times a day
do you close your eyes
and say
"there will be leaves
and flowers on the trees again."
reminding yourself that
it doesn't rain forever.
but it's been cloudy for at least
3 months and you can't
remember the last time
the sun showed through
your eyes.

I wonder why as humans we try so hard for so long.
we work and we destroy ourselves for things
that never seem to work out in the end
but we keep trying.
it's hope.
hope is going to **** us.
it's that little thing in our hearts and brains that tell us to keep going
when we're already worn down and torn up to the bone.
it tells us go try one more time
give it one more shot.
hope is going to **** us.