It's the aftermath
but all I can think
is where do we go from here?
I guess I mean "I"
I'm unused to thinking
in singular
Every day my face tells
the same lie, and
I really just want to go
home, but it's gone
I feel grotesque and
tortured like a prison
walled on all sides with
chrome and mirrors
Even now, all I can really think
of is you and how I messed up
and I'm wondering what is right
with the world when even we
cant do this correctly
I can't think of what I'll
do in the summer
alone, knowing you're
there somewhere eating
caprese and thinking of
that time we went up to
the mountain and kissed there
as the sun returned to its
home and we bathed in the lights
of our city
It was our city, and
for us together, a home
and it's so wrong to think of it
that way anymore
Even now, I know you're
thinking the same thoughts
we're more alike, even than
you already knew
selfishly, I'm preparing to
pretend, and dance like I'm
alive
again
14 years ago
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