do you remember


880 in the pouring rain

in the middle of the day, in the middle of the week

dreaming of Californication

i couldn't even tell you what it meant


feeling like i could be whatever i wanted

but feeling obligated to do what i was already doing


how hard is it to give up everything

and become something new


walking through the mall

to get home from school

always jeans and always too hot


i had no idea who i was or who i could be


i used to go to starbucks every morning

i used to go to the drive thru baskin robbins at the end of the day


i used to follow a routine

not that it made me feel better

but because that's what i was used to


driving down Happy Valley

in the fall,

when the leaves turn

and the road feels like a mystical forest

the way the trees perfectly arch above the street


on my way


maybe we don't really enjoy what's around us

we just get used to it

the comfort of the familiar


when you go back home

does something stir your soul?

or does it feel washed up


a place i call home

feels like i don't belong here anymore


home really isn't a place, but a feeling


you feel like home

this feels like home

i am home


when you think about the "good times"

what are you referring to?


because now~

these are the good times!


nostalgia kills


i keep going back to the past

because i heard that knowing your past helps you know who you are in the present


but every time i look back

it feels like my old self is pulling me back

she can't be here, so she tries to suck me in


but that's not what i want

that's not who i am

anymore


i am the scent in the air after the rain

i am the chaos of the city

i am the lull of the waves

i am the clouds

i am the glow of the morning sun


word vomit might be a thing

and this might be it


but hear me out


repeat after me


i'm on my way

back to myself