there's nothing for you here.
I miss home.
I miss my room.
my cat.
my oak tree.
the dogs barking whenever someone would come to the door.
laying in the driveway at two in the morning.
knowing just where to leave my toothpaste.
throwing potatoes at the mailbox.
playing tennis against the garage door.
biking through the woods.
showers down to five minutes flat.
the sound of the neighbor lady starting her car at 11pm, every night.
the history channel.
looking out my bedroom window at the lights across the water.
my mom saying "not too loud!", every time I'd plug in my guitar.
the figure-eight track in the back yard.
jumping dog gates to get into the living room.
mom doing my laundry.
summer nights around the fire pit.
picnic tables.
all of these stupid little things, and more.
I miss my room.
my cat.
my oak tree.
the dogs barking whenever someone would come to the door.
laying in the driveway at two in the morning.
knowing just where to leave my toothpaste.
throwing potatoes at the mailbox.
playing tennis against the garage door.
biking through the woods.
showers down to five minutes flat.
the sound of the neighbor lady starting her car at 11pm, every night.
the history channel.
looking out my bedroom window at the lights across the water.
my mom saying "not too loud!", every time I'd plug in my guitar.
the figure-eight track in the back yard.
jumping dog gates to get into the living room.
mom doing my laundry.
summer nights around the fire pit.
picnic tables.
all of these stupid little things, and more.