at whitepost cafe.

There’s a river and a tree and a bluebird in the sky

I didn’t have to name a place

you can just look out your window and see beauty almost anywhere

but there’s something about building a home from the roots of your broken soul when you needed light the most and didn’t find it until a stranger smiled at you and asked you to go for a drink

then next thing you know you’re sitting with their friends bottle of vodka in

thinking life has never been this great.

And to lose your self in the murmur of the sky without a single worry great enough to keep you bound to the ground, nothing is more beautiful

this is life, you scream,

at the top of your lungs until your vocal cords break

but your smile always fully intact.

You then meet a girl or two that stand out from the rest and make you blush a little

and they aren’t poetic loves, not at all

they are more like a tender bruise on your arm-

a temporary indent on your body that makes you feel something and is most probably the result of a really fun moment where you did something a little stupid but loved every minute of it

but it fades after a while because it didn’t really belong there in the first place.

I love the ground here and the sky and the polluted air and my bruises and all of the smiles

and maybe i’ll see you again in another life.

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