I love places that make you realize how tiny you and your problems are
I just ache for this place. With every muscle I have and then some. I know it’s not perfect and that you can never really go home, but I am internally howling at myself to go there anyway.
For all the ones who’ve left, there’s a few that stayed
And they found me here and pulled me from the grass where I was laid
New England has these chillingly entrancing cemeteries that give you such a sense of loss and time lapsed and utter evanescence against a never-ceasing march.