I live in a place where folks sling drugs to pay for Mormon missions.
I live in a place where one day it’s snowing, the next it’s 60 degrees out.
I live in a place where such little change forces one to live vicariously through their hair and clothing.
I live in a place where every face is familiar.
I am the gal who gives her phone number to gentlemen on a coffee filter, and labels herself “Disco-babe Darby”
I am a gal who is not even remotely human without her caffeine/nicotine fix.
I am a gal who cries loneliness only to push everyone away.
I am a gal who is trying too hard in this headache of a city, waiting only to be wished Godspeed as I gallivant back roads the hell out of here.