n/a

The pit in my stomach is so deep it swallows up the only words I could have used to describe the feeling. The feeling of being…no, there are no words.

“Be safe,” my dad says. “Those trucks will knock the shit out of you.” I smile. Life already has. Give it to me.

Give it to me. What I need. What do I need? I wish I knew. All I see is the word “CUNT” spray painted on the floor of the bus. I’ll miss the Bay’s grittiness and I’ll miss the way the wind whips my hair when I go out on the pier right before a storm hits. I’ll miss the sound the train makes and I’ll miss the home I never had a chance to make.

Still, there are no words.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s