Thirty, Flirty, and Not Quite Thriving

I ride the roads of this god forsaken town and everything is different yet still the same as it was when I was little and didn’t quite understand the ghost town I was trapped in. the ghost story in which I was the final girl. Every square inch. Every back road. Every abandoned or redone building tells of a battle I’ve fought. And that house still lingers down in the bottomless pit that devours all my hopes and dreams. The graveyard of everything that has or will occur in the never-ending, nail biting, page turner I’m forced to call life.