I want to buy a typewriter.
I want to use all the ink on scraps of paper that I’ve saved when I was with you,
and bleed all the feelings you gave me.
I want to meet interesting people,
with plenty of scars and just as many stories,
because you can never have enough of any in your life.
I want to make more art,
and listen to music where you can feel the musicians hurt.
I want to go into the city with a close friend,
and cry silently to The Smiths in the car, like we did that one night.
I want to be more free-spirited,
because they always seem the most happy.
But most of all, I want to stay content, and humble.