.a-letter-to-elise.

On Sunday evening, after a long day at work, I stood by the edge of a bridge. I had stopped by my house before this. Donned my flowy white dress, my favorite. Written a note. The walk here was unnerving.

I have never quite been 

Just as confused

Than on that quiet and sad afternoon

As I lay on the ground

And watched joy abound

As the sun danced around with the moon

Although it was day

Don't fall in love with people like me. I'll take you to museums, and parks, and monuments, and kiss you in every beautiful place so you can never go there again without tasting me like blood in your mouth.

We were driving along the California coastline. I could feel the wheels of your red convertible twirling below us. The familiar motion was soothing. Song like. I was in the driver’s seat.