It all started in my second-story room.
A quiet summer night, not a single sound,
And then a loud boom.

I looked out the window for a better view
And rushed down to the kitchen, out the patio door, and onto the deck
Because what I saw in the sky reminded me of you
A small chill nipped at my neck, and I wondered,
Could you be remembering me too?

Because with every reverberation a star shot through the sky.
A shimmering burst, like a fiery blossom, every one of its blooms.
But it lingers for just a moment, and then it disappears.

Remember when we believed that if we swung high enough we might be able to fly?
Remember when we thought we could be artists and authors by just the age of sixteen?
Now all we do is sit and sigh, waiting on the Wifi,
Telling ourselves that the dreams we had were just unachievable little schemes.

They say you moved to Spain.
Three years ago, I heard.
Tell me, did that rid you of your pain?
And don’t lie, because I know, behind closed doors for your mother you cry, because Cancer had her killed.

And I might have found a lover.
And you’ve probably found another.
And we might feel fine as of now, but someday,
Just like the pyrokinetic flowers that bombard the night sky,
My memories of you will fade away.
I just wanted to say goodbye.

You can probably catch me
f
          a
                    l
             l
     i
          n
            
                g  
                     for another

                     one of your lies.

We were watched, making love last night
By her walls, painted plain and white.
I want to tell her,
If you love me, love me better,
You're doing it all wrong.
You just strung a dozen words together,
I wouldn't call it a song.
She says she's afraid to be alone
Fine, I guess I'll lead her along.
I'm not that cruel and
You're not very strong.
Four white, watching walls, night after night...
I don't think we can go on.

Please stop talking like me
I don't sound good
coming from you

She says her lover's died in the plague
She buried him already,
Before you came
Last night, stars bright,
Glinting off her metal *****.

It'd be a disrespect, to uncover the body,
They shrug and say,
Poor widow, lover died of the plague,
And at such a young age.

But check her closet now, don't be afraid,
See the kitchen knife there?
Love's red on its blade.