"Wish you were here"
Scrawled out in sharpie
In the bathroom stall
I fish a ballpoint pen
Out of my shoulder bag
And scribble a
":("
And a
"Miss you too"
I go into my car
Slam the door
The skies are cloaked in
Grey clouds
It begins to drizzle
Then pour
Reba's voice comes through static:
"My mind is on you"
I pull over
To the side of the road
I put my head
on the tattered
steering wheel
I feel something in my throat
That needs melting
But my eyes are deserts
Instead,
I lift my head
To watch
the heavens cry.
May 18, 2018
May 18, 2018 at 3:08 AM UTC
"Wish you were here"
Scrawled out in sharpie
In the bathroom stall
I fish a ballpoint pen
Out of my shoulder bag
And scribble a
":("
And a
"Miss you too"
I go into my car
Slam the door
The skies are cloaked in
Grey clouds
It begins to drizzle
Then pour
Reba's voice comes through static:
"My mind is on you"
I pull over
To the side of the road
I put my head
on the tattered
steering wheel
I feel something in my throat
That needs melting
But my eyes are deserts
Instead,
I lift my head
To watch
the heavens cry.
