I'm under fire today.
Like those times when you try to be so good but your big tail is wagging and books are falling from shelves, glasses are tumbling to the ground.
Like the girl who's sweet to everyone except for you because of that rough patch you went through, because of your bad jokes, because she never wants to loose her best friend.
Like trying to do your job, then finding out that nobody wants it done that way. Or putting the wrong numbers into excel equations. Like telling you happy birthday, when your birthday was weeks ago.
It was me who broke down the gate in the Faculty Lot while trying to park my car this afternoon.
Two blue-eyed brunettes, running to that spot in the woods on your property, in that town where I no longer live, to bury treasure and pretend we are elsewhere.
1 comment:
This is really beautiful. Even though it is kind of sad there is this since of innocence of the past that make readers kind of want to be able to find their spot, to be back to a place that was like home regardless of anything bad that happened.
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