Saturday, March 28, 2009


Straining my eyes to see through the pouring rain
In a metal box hurtling down the freeway at 75, but not 80
Crooked shirts and shoulders
Mix tapes in french
The warmth of his body next to mine
Sweet scissors stabbing at my sanity
That intoxicating scent spreads my heart so thin

I'm sailing away...

or at least I wish I were. Stupid song is stuck in my head. I'm so tired of holding up the facade of this strong woman who can handle anything while really on the inside I'm walking around on the verge of tears.