catch-up or ketchup.

it's two freckles past a hair. and im stuck fumbling through the crazy mess i've fallen into. when all else fails, i have me. it's taken me countless attempts to figure out something so childish and blunt. i like the swerves in the road that send me in new directions, and the coffee stains that block out my previously planned route. i've decided not to buy ahead, over pack, or even bring a first aid kit. this time, i'll jump long before thinking twice.
i'll jump long before thinking at all.



who's to say that being right is such a good thing? picking up the pieces always leaves you looking back and smiling at the end result, even if it comes hand in hand with a paper cut or two. a closed door gives you a good reason to undo your bobby pin, shake your hair loose, and pick a lock. and being the last in line gives you five more minutes to complain about something less important than yourself.
im letting go now, because i know that you've already won. i won't tell myself anything that isn't true. doing so only leaves me with high hopes, a lost victory, and another failed attempt at making my way out of here. im not happy with the way things went. but im determined to make any ending a good one. you are the pieces that i need to pick up. i'll try and make sense out of every thing else as i go. one by one, the picture will come together. before getting too far, i'll remind myself to step back.
then, it's simple.

i'll cross my fingers and jump.