A poem.

DELETE.

Start over.

I want to be somewhere else right now.
I want to be where it is warm
So I could go back to wearing
Dresses every day
Instead of sweatpants.
I want my skin to turn red and then slowly
Ease into a shade of brown that looks like
Toast or caramel or a shiny wood table.
I want my hair to turn blonder by the day
As the sun beats mercilessly upon earth
And all its tired occupants.
I want my backpack full of only what I need
To live on the road,
And a graphing notepad, three pens, a sharpie,
And A Picture of Dorian Gray.
I want to curl up under a stunted tree
Beside a highway in the mountains
With the blue bottle of tequila
My trendy, friendly Alaskan couple ride offered
Before dropping me off at the hitching mecca.
I want to lay spreadeagled in a field on my back
Counting stars and finding patterns and stories
Reminiscent of those the ancients told around blazing campfires.
I want to meet people that I love and admire and adore one day
And say goodbye to them forever the next.
That way they will stay perfect
And I can remain wrapped in the security blanket of ignorance
That we have pretended is an adventurous spirit
Or a love of humanity
But is quite undeniably an incredible fear of being let down
Or losing something good.
I want everything to be fluid, interchangeable, temporary.
For everything to be inextricably linked,
But without consequences,
Positive or negative,
To anything.
I want to be a phantom.
I want to be gone.