In your new leather jacket, you’re somebody else. It’s not nice to meet you in a fortress of self. Thanks to your new leather jacket, we’re nobodies now. Pack of cigarettes, I empty out. I miss the way we talked before you went away to school. Now all you seem to say is “Baby, how could it be you?” I hate the way you’re leaning and you’re looking at your phone. I hate the way I feel like dying when I’m alone.
In five years, I want to be happy. I want to be out of this state, be done with school, or about to finish. I want to have my foot in the door as far as teaching goes. I would like a dog, a motorcycle, and a cool apartment, I’d want to take my dog on a walk in the morning. I’d also want to have a few routes we could choose from. I want shelves for my records, and my prints framed. I hope my wardrobe is actually smaller and easier to maintain. I hope to have a few more cameras, and hundreds more pictures, and stories, and memories.
But I guess I need to know what it would have felt like to be right. But I’m getting tired all over again so hurry up and get here because I’m still waiting… just like I’ve always been. I’m getting tired of standing around, just sitting here and waiting to be found. Same old shit just a different day. I’ll wait around for one more day but I know that’s what I will always say. Will this ever be O.K.? I will always worry about you. I will always stick up for you.