thoughts and kind-of-sort-of prose

Wander

This town is making me crazy.
I feel stuck in the place I thought I'd always call home.
I want to drive,
and continue to drive,
until I've run out of gas, or until I've found the perfect spot.
I want to stand in an open field
and scream at the top of my lungs.
Want to drive with my best friend beside me and listen to her read poetry.

I need to leave this place
because there's so much more this world has to offer.