location and destination
undetermined and unknown

cell phone shuts down, battery dead
no one can find me now

I could get lost
hop on a train to Juneau, Alaska if I wanted

nobody would know or realize
vanished from society

the feeling of being completely disconnected
engulfs my soul

location and destination
undetermined and unknown
sounds like an adventure to me

Five years ago, a boy held my hand in a dark cabin
I couldn't make out his face but I felt connected
260 weeks, 1826 days, 43829 hours later...
I realized he couldn't make out my face either
It happened to be a coincidence that my hand was there too
Wish I realized this five years, 260 weeks, 1826 days, 43829 hours ago...

when I get heart burn I like to imagine it's my body reacting to my mind's mistakes
the heat is a constant reminder that I was the one who created all the sensations
It fuels my soul with the memories of you and how much I let myself go
inflammation takes over and I let it, just like I let you take advantage of me
the pain seeps throughout my chest and I still force my brain to believe that you lied
as the cramping flows deep into the pit of my stomach I'm disgusted
I purge when your name is recited but the only memories leak out
and no anti-acid is strong enough to erase you or what we did

the kind of pressure that I put on myself
the kind of pressure that comes with being a daughter of two dentists
the kind of pressure that builds up inside and creates castles of anger
the kind of pressure that tells me I'm too heavy
the kind of pressure that forms from great expectations
the kind of pressure that coaches lay upon the captains
the kind of pressure that is applied when goals are never achieved  
the kind of pressure that keeps me up at night thinking about the future
the kind of pressure that secrets ignite
the kind of pressure that the eldest sister gets for just being the first born
the kind of pressure that is invisible to anyone but me

a departure without reason
last goodbyes never said
car door closes and I'm confounded with thoughts of regret

expectations still high as bittersweet kisses become dry  
but nothing is felt, nothing is real

messages are read, 6:02
there's nothing I can do?

unless.
this is the end
this is goodbye