she’s got a family in ca-ro-li-na, so far away but she says I remind her of home feeling oh so far from hooooome. She never saw herself as a west coaster, moved all the way ‘cause her grandma told her, “TOWNES! BETTER SWIM BEFORE YOU DROoOwWwn”
meet me in the hallway:
wandering the streets at two am on a thursday morning. rain hitting against the windows. half remembered dreams. laying in bed with your headphones on.
sign of the times:
the last warm day of the year. too hot coffee. sitting outside of a party listening to the muffled music playing coming through the door.
the hottest day of the year. dive bars. the feeling of being in the middle of a crowd at a concert with everyone singing along. a cold beer.
growing up. sitting on the roof of your house and crying. pretending to not notice an ex when you walk by them on the street. missing someone.
driving with the windows down on the first day of summer. seeing your loved ones for the first time in a long time. iced tea. petting your dog.
the build up right before you kiss someone you're into. walking down a city street. that sweet spot when you're drinking and you feel like you can fly.
heartbeat going a little too fast. being on a roller coaster right before the drop. going to a twenty-four hour diner with your friends and laughing too loud.
ever since new york:
watching the sunset. saying goodbye. the moment in between being asleep and being wide awake after a good night's sleep. sitting in your friend's backyard staring at the stars.
from the dining table:
sitting on the floor with your knees against your chest. staring at your cell phone and waiting for a text. the day you realize all the holiday lights have been taken down. realizing that this chapter in your life is over.