She checks Postsecret every Sunday
Record player breaks every other day
and never stands still unless she's balanced in posse
Moccasins too old, jeans too frayed
and slightly faded, she's comfortably jaded
Makes lists in her head for comfort
like an oversized sweatshirt,
it's there if you ever need it
She's been taking a different route home
to avoid the relentlessly bumpy road that led to his-
Some things hit too close to home
She never drives without a co-pilot
but takes the curves too fast
She likes the color violet
because it makes everything seem more vast
One glance at the red string on her wrist and you can tell what she believes
These days she wears a heart on a necklace instead of on her sleeve
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