It's over

The last days are always the greatest.

But they are also the ones that hurt the most to look back on.

I'm leaving Paris and moving to California.

I can't wait to be where I know that I belong.

But I can wait to leave somewhere I don't for some reason

I've been sitting here for hours waiting for a voice to tell me what to do.

It seems as though it is sleeping on the plush pink brain inside that is too small.

I'm a little out of tune as I sing because it's asleep.

I have to remember that just because the people tell me I'm useless doesn't mean I am.

The blisters on my fingers tell me stories of pens pressed too hard ripping the paper.

This is it.

My toes dig into the sandy beaches because this is where I root myself.

The waves crashing try their best to knock me down but I am too strong.

Though I remember being a child screaming as they took me out into the ocean.

I know better now though

Everyone now knows my story, but I will continue to tell it.

I think the next part that roles around is marriage and uncertainty

I am not sure whether or not I would rather be hit by lightning or stung by a million bees

They would be shocking just the same.

Bees like honey and honey is sweet so maybe I'll pick that.

But lightning is more forceful and is generated with rain.

I like the rain more so lightning it is.