It's always strange to me to see how the streets are busy in this small town
I can't tell if I'm impressed or furious I can drive all of them blindfolded
It makes me itch that nobody's strangers on these sidewalks
Everyone exclaims from a young age they're going to get out
But here I am making small talk with everyone I hate
This town is only beautiful if you don't know it's secrets
I'm avoiding all eye contact at the market because I want to avoid all contact in general
I never knew just how much a friendly face could make me want to throw up
I don't think it's this town that makes me cringe
It's the thought of seeing the old me walk past me
Maybe I should take it as a compliment she doesn't recognize me
Oh god I wish I could forget her
YOU ARE READING
Before I Blackout
PoetryMy best work is done when I'm on the edge of blacking out, when you finally stop trying to pretend you have a grip on what runs though your mind, you should try writing with your eyes half closed and your mind wide open. This may be an on going pro...
