poetry ridden,
fake smiles
pretend you still don't love him
you can do anything!
this is your home now,

where the rain can stay for weeks,
and the sun is always just a little to close to you
the crabs walk the streets,
more than the people
and you taste the salt on your skin
the stores close at 9
the bakery doesn't have pastries,
and loneliness never ceases


homesick, homesick, homesick, homesick, homesick