it doesn't have to make sense

it's the story of a one way ticket to ------  
a regifted first act guitar that can tell more stories  
than the ex convict    
that's standing just outside the greyhound smoking section  
waiting for a 9 hour ride home  
with nothing more than a customary mesh bag    
and a full pack of newports    
he's willing to share for small talk    
and a crinkled smiles half assed eye contact  
   
it's late but what really matters  
is the sound of leaving  
a mechanical smokers cough  
wheezing past thousands of people sharing a split second moment of passing  
seeming to exhale from my own lungs  
and it burns just as good as it sounds  
in a somewhat drawn out trance down a highway    
that looks like every cement road traveled down before it  
   
it's a familar tune  
a reminder of why i leave and of the girls back home  
the ones mostly burnt out    
with more miles branding them  
than life prepared anyone for at 21  
but i've noticed it's an easy way to live for them  
even if i can't understand laying down and accepting myself as that type of woman  
because i know they were taught to believe love looks like daddy  
and thiers never told them that you can't do everything you can dream  
that a bottle of jack holds more prayers than houston after hours    
or that not breaking silence was the first of so many almosts  
although voicing something could one day be the inspiration  
for a pretty blues song  
that might make it past the dingy bar walls  
it would get smeared all over in desperation    
or fragile hopes of liberation    
for a night in a future i can vividly imagine  
a bit too clearly  
   
it's a tiny piece in a story of a one way ticket    
that has x amount of destinations printed on cheap promises  
that won't get recycled for the right reasons  
or remebered with the right person    
because the freedom of escape  
means sacrificing everything    
when people have nothing left to lose  
and there's no one worth wasting time with  
so i'll be gone again by next week  
because leaving is a vice i crave daily  
and a constant that always makes semi stability cringe  
though the journey is always more beautiful    
than the arival    
because it doesn't have to make sense    
if i'm bored and ready to move on  
for no better reason than to see everything i can
and watch as the sky changes color
as i pass by