I sat in this exact spot and told a boy I loved him for the very first time. I left my innocence here when I stood up.
Sometimes I can still find it in the cracks between the sheets of plastic, deep down underneath the remnants of the kids who did the same.
I drove here alone one day to dig it up but only found pieces of me that no longer fit together. When did I become so unfamiliar to myself?
That must have been the day I had my first real kiss.
I tried forcing him into my empty spaces but the picture never turned out how I hoped it would. I used to think it was bad luck.
Jun 21, 2014
Jun 21, 2014 at 12:52 AM UTC
I sat in this exact spot and told a boy I loved him for the very first time. I left my innocence here when I stood up.
Sometimes I can still find it in the cracks between the sheets of plastic, deep down underneath the remnants of the kids who did the same.
I drove here alone one day to dig it up but only found pieces of me that no longer fit together. When did I become so unfamiliar to myself?
That must have been the day I had my first real kiss.
I tried forcing him into my empty spaces but the picture never turned out how I hoped it would. I used to think it was bad luck.
