My mother tells me she’s going to hold it together at the airport, yet, she cries telling me she misses me in Japan Express ordering hibachi. I just don’t think you’re foolin’ anyone, momma. Then, my dad tells me he isn’t coming to the airport because he’ll, “cry his eyes out.” This trip is already getting overwhelming, and I haven’t even put my bags in the car. Poor parents, I’ll miss you too and I love you.
I’ve been titling my poems lately, by song lyrics I hear and then I feel like I could make a narrative out of that. Obviously, in my high school girl mind (even though I’m 22) Taylor Swift makes one or two appearances. I’m not sure this is a good thing, but I’ve been writing some wicked things in random places lately so I’m hoping the airport can whip up some diva poetry for me. We’ll see.
I don’t really know what I’m writing about here, just like I don’t really know what I’m doing with my life. One thing I do know is that I love letters to death and I hope I have a world of penpals while I’m on the other side. (The Dark Side).
Goodbye friends, here’s the start of something good.