Even though they were never my friends in the first place, it’s like watching the whole world blow up around you while your dead stuck in the middle.
I have no motive to be where they are or even surpass it. Spending warm days and late nights roaming for the least bit of recognition, I lived it. Not only did I live it, I craved it. My whole life in fact.
And now, I lay here;
staring out frosty windows praying for snow.
I get scared when I think of finally moving to LA because knowing me I may fall back into old habits.
I see my self in places I don’t belong, talking to people who only look twice because I’m pretty, handing out cards of a business I abandoned a long time ago.
But I still search the ads of Craigslist in hopes they’ll take me in.
And I scroll through the photos of long lost friends who have more digits in followers than they do in their bank accounts and sigh that I never made it as far as they did because I gave it all up too soon.
That side of me still exists and maybe always will but I’ve seen a better place. A road less traveled by, but I swear it’ll make all the difference.