I'm in this weird transition stage

where my home is temporary

it seems as if the actions i make

will remain behind the door that closes

as i drive away to my next destination

junior year

it's been a strange past few months

i thought i had it all figured out, but that sadness came back to bite me

Dan

missing him is the harderst thing

i allow myself to react to his words, touch, taste,

but there's so many miles between his bed and the words that I'm writing

Study time

a class i haven't been to

what would you do if you were me?

I like my empty spaces open

i cant be around people when im just wanting

their eyes get to my head

so after waking up early i just drive home

and waste the day looking in the lock box

i set up the tv this weekend

it doesn't seem like much, but it's a change in scenery

it says "someone is living here"

there are no degrees

its just a couch with paint splashed on the arm

i watched so many movies and i dreamed in my bed

the blanket helps, but only a little

that first night i was truly terrified

I really thought you'd be there

impossibility and reality intertwine

english essays submited too late 

and books i never read in the first place

next semester when im more set up

another new home alone, but atleast its closer

classes that I might actually care about and

resumes written by the end of the year

"It's a silly time to learn to swim when you start to drown"

everything felt too late