fuck the suburbs
i waited for the other shoe to drop and it did.
oh, it did.
“i’m sorry,” i said, “for trying to hurt you so bad.”
you smile and say, “i’m used to it.”
“you shouldn’t be.”
this town is so goddamned miserable.
it’s empty and it’s hellish,
it’s filled with arrogance and harsh mothers.
this was the first thing we ever clicked on.
“i didn’t do it to try and be your mother,” i said, “i did it because i was scared, and i’m sorry i was.”
“i was scared too,” you said, “i’m sorry your fear made you like your mother.”
i need to move away,
i need another state and i need an empty apartment
right on a busy street filled with car wrecks.
i need to sit on cold tile and breathe where no one can hear.
“do you know why she doesn’t love you?” i asked
“because there’s something wrong with me,” you said
i have family members buried in this small town cemetery.
you don’t, that’s okay.
neither of us want to die here,
but sometimes we hate living here more.
“where do you want to go?” i asked
“anywhere, somewhere.”
“but not here.”
