I want to be a neon light. One of the signs you find outside of a bar. Inside of a bar. On the side of a truck stop, promising salvation in a desert for thirsty hearts in migration.

I’ll listen to music all day and when everyone is gone, I’ll be so still.

Turquoise

Pink

Those lights really stand for something, you know? But they don’t have to be anything — they don’t have to be anyone.

“Do you mind if I ask you why you’re here?” I wanted to know. “Why do you do this?”

I didn’t care why she was here. I wanted to know why I was here. Why I did this.