breakdown

i hate that summer's over
i hate that my passenger seat will be empty on my drives back from wooster in the middle of the night
i hate that my fears and insecurities were more accurate than my hopes
I hate that sweet poetry feels so awful when actually lived out
crying in someone's arms in a strange city
arms you can't do a thing with once the grace period is over
I hate that this is the moment you asked "how are you doing? Are you ok?"

I hate that my heart is breakable even when it's armed and prepared

but i love that I still feel like I make pretty good company
and that a clear sky can make me lost for a second

i will find more and more things to love this fall

just watch me


i hate you baltimore. i hate you and the rats on your t-shirts
but i'll probably love you when it's all said and done