This is how you heal:
You get on a plane wearing your old worn boots and your heart in your hands.
14 hours and three shrink-wrapped meals later, you land on the other side of the world.
this is where you can begin again.
your life now moves in leaps and bounds and everything begins to blur -
minutes feel like hours and hours feel like days.
you are not a tourist,
but a traveller -
you walk and see and do and explore.
you spend the nights drinking and laughing and dancing and drinking some more.
it's all a little too much and it's all a little too crazy,
but for the first time in months you do not think of that boy back home with the wild , haunting eyes.
you do not think anything other than being here and now,
soaking up every single moment.
you throw yourself into every adventure and every new person that you meet.
you haven't slept in days, but it's all okay.
I am alive.
I am doing.
I am seeing.
I am being.
You're toasting to new friends rather than drowning in vodka on your bedroom floor.
You are happy.
you spin under blinding lights in Vegas,
and lay under shooting stars in the grand canyon.
you're steering boats and riding bikes and getting lost on subway lines.
and then one night,
you find a boy standing next to a fire,
Phoenix, Arizona..
and he's is unlike any before.
and this boy holds your hand and looks you in the eye when you speak to him,
rather than the boys back home who only pull at the hem of your skirt, begging for more.
and now it's pouring rain in San Francisco, midnight,
and this boy is spinning you around on the corner of a street,
soaked to the core.
And when he pulls you in to kiss you,
you feel at home.
for once,
nothing hurts,
not one single goddamn thing.
and just like that Neil Young song, "it took crossing the ocean to find a heart of gold."
And when you return home,
you know that nothing will ever be the same again,
and you're so goddamn thankful for that.
You'll be okay, now...
You've found the secret to mending a broken soul.
You get on a plane wearing your old worn boots and your heart in your hands.
14 hours and three shrink-wrapped meals later, you land on the other side of the world.
this is where you can begin again.
your life now moves in leaps and bounds and everything begins to blur -
minutes feel like hours and hours feel like days.
you are not a tourist,
but a traveller -
you walk and see and do and explore.
you spend the nights drinking and laughing and dancing and drinking some more.
it's all a little too much and it's all a little too crazy,
but for the first time in months you do not think of that boy back home with the wild , haunting eyes.
you do not think anything other than being here and now,
soaking up every single moment.
you throw yourself into every adventure and every new person that you meet.
you haven't slept in days, but it's all okay.
I am alive.
I am doing.
I am seeing.
I am being.
You're toasting to new friends rather than drowning in vodka on your bedroom floor.
You are happy.
you spin under blinding lights in Vegas,
and lay under shooting stars in the grand canyon.
you're steering boats and riding bikes and getting lost on subway lines.
and then one night,
you find a boy standing next to a fire,
Phoenix, Arizona..
and he's is unlike any before.
and this boy holds your hand and looks you in the eye when you speak to him,
rather than the boys back home who only pull at the hem of your skirt, begging for more.
and now it's pouring rain in San Francisco, midnight,
and this boy is spinning you around on the corner of a street,
soaked to the core.
And when he pulls you in to kiss you,
you feel at home.
for once,
nothing hurts,
not one single goddamn thing.
and just like that Neil Young song, "it took crossing the ocean to find a heart of gold."
And when you return home,
you know that nothing will ever be the same again,
and you're so goddamn thankful for that.
You'll be okay, now...
You've found the secret to mending a broken soul.