Not sure why it feels like a response to an addiction?
To restrain from quickly typing in a name
to its correlating search engine.
A name considered maiden now, I guess.
Just an optimal time to live then.
Where emotions were felt HARD.
Simple things achieved on $5 dollars worth of gas.
And I felt it.
The temperature on my skin, the salt in my mouth.
Waking up next to you
and then going or not going to school.
It meant more.
Now you've faded.
Into mass obscurity.
Or was it always an insecurity?
Maybe,
you just wanted
what I wanted.
The music was real, though.
Packing up clothes and childhood
thought to be contained inside
little boxes on the hillside.
Probably wasn't.
It was never really unpacked.
No surprises, we tripped
and fell in a room meant for one.
We were kids.
Dumb to think you still are the malleable sidekick
of fourteen.
Occasionally waking up to cut your hair or pierce your skin
without any permissions.
We should have formed a gang
to kick your brother's ass
and all predators in remission.
Instead of following in age-old
feminine division.
Maybe,
we weren't as 'hip' as we pretended.
Comments
Displaying 0 of 0 comments ( View all | Add Comment )