i’m stop signs. quick, 1, 2, 3, go. i’m the rest stop when you’re almost to your destination, stop here find what you’re really looking for and realize it isn’t and won’t ever be me. i’m yellow lights that people run through and the fast lane on highways. i’m the person people look at and say i’ll take what they’ll give me and give nothing in return. i’m never the final stop. i’m the person who writes their number down for you and then you lose the paper in your least liked pair of pants but you don’t mind because they were never your favorite anyways. i am never the favorite anyways. i think about how i could make myself more likeable, turn myself from a hotel stop or train station into a skyscraper with a hard base and concrete flooring but then i remember no one would stay even if i begged them to. no one would stay even if i could force them to. and that's why i stopped begging and forcing and clawing. i am never the one people remember or the one people want. i’m forever meant to be the stepping stone for people to realize what they really want out of life. and it’s never me.