Take a moment and
Let me try to salvage a little insight
From your gentle mind
Because drifters are always concise
In their indescion
A mind full
Of realizations one has
At 3 AM on HWY 395
He said she was too much of a project
So she split.
We live in shady times
Where women must obey
Their natural instincts
But look like a plastic image
Of society's doll
She split
And all he has to remember her by
Is a stunning polaroid
Of her in a off-brand t-shirt
And drugstore magenta lips
So she split
And all he can look at
Every night is the way
Her eyes were filled
With
Fire, pain, indescion, and a little rage
Like a free animal
That is better caged
Drifting
Is full of everything
She couldn't get in a small town
Full of gentle dreams
Where a husband and two kids
One boy,one girl
Is ok.
But she wasn't ok with that
So she split
She didn't want to be the shirt marked down
On the clearance rack
That you kept checking back for
And finally purchased when it was cheap enough
She wanted to be final sale
She wanted you to invest your
Money, time, and maybe your heart.
But in materialistic America
People get rid of their valuables
To get something better.
So she split.
Now she's driving down
The highway
Wind in her choppy hair
And blank vintage inspired sunglasses
Because a name-brand society
Just isn't her thing
She didn't want to obey
The antique man
He told her not to split
So she split
And flipped the script on him
"Don't tell me what to do
I don't have to obey you"
She's driving down a highway
Towards tremendous dreams
Without dead weight
She's going to succeed
By any means necessary
Small towns are a trigger
For girls ticking like a time bomb
Just waiting to explode
She was the grenade girl
That ran away
After taking the pin out
And throwing it behind her back
On your favorite Blvd.
Because baby's outta here
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