I don't want to leave you,
But in order to better myself I'm afraid I have to.
Mama told me that it'll be days like this.
Daddy told me to learn from everyone you meet.
Shirt now folded, tucked in a bag beneath the bus.
To much disdain, I have to leave now.
Here on the open road traveling down every thought.
A window seat to the world. Open and vast.                                             First person view.
A introvert paused next to a bag lady whom resembles the woman I found in you.
Not too much to say.
Revisiting these old roads etched in my mind.
The thing about memorization.
You always seem to go back when least expected.
Another birth control pill. A baby trying to survive abortion.
A layered bowl of chili in a old diner across the street of an old country town.
High rise wires always seem the same either direction you go