The first apartment I ever called my own
Complete with kitchen, bathroom and twin bed
No mom, no dad
But a living room with a rickety couch
And ugly blue carpets, with cigarette burns
Even though smoking wasn't allowed

They bulldozed it to the ground
It's a big parking lot now
Full of those tiny rocks
The annoying ones that get stuck in your shoes
They bulldozed my first apartment
And a few of my other firsts

Like the first time I thought I was in love
And I waited nervously
In front of the heavy, wooden door
And he came in with a mission
Because drinking and ripping bongs
Melted away any nerves he may have had

I wondered if I'd shudder when the moment finally came
If I'd get red in the face - hot from the pressure
Would my arms turn splotchy?
Would my chest turn red?
Turning me into some diseased-looking freak
As opposed to the pretty, young thing
I'd wanted him to make love to
If only I knew,
That he wouldn't notice any of that

He didn't ask me if I was sure
Like guys do in the movies
And he told me what I wanted to hear
And bent me in ways someone with no experience
Should not be bent
And the TV was on in my very first living room
The whole time - the History Channel
I listened to the low hum
You could hear it through the walls
Despite what was supposed to be
A lifelong, loving memory,
I learned about World War II

My twin bed had pink sheets with white stripes
And a pink comforter too
And the next week he forgot my 19th birthday
And I don't know what I expected
But it was OK - I said it was OK
Because I had my own apartment
And my own kitchen
That I can't ever recall cooking in
And I had my pink sheets
That didn't feel so innocent anymore

Table, chairs, fridge and freezer
I had all of that.
Frozen dinners and plastic handles of *****
Not all memories are worth remembering
Sometimes, they just get bulldozed

When I am alone in bed, I can spread out as big as I want
I can wrap myself into a cocoon blanket
I can pull the covers over my messy bed hair
And look as ugly as I want when I wake up in the morning

I don’t have to worry about body heat
Touching me, coursing in through my skin
And making me a sweaty mess
I don't have to make sure not to hog the down comforter
I can toss and turn as much as I want

I can rebuild you with my pillows, work them into the shape of a man
I can wrap my legs around them and hold them all night
Because they’re cozy and welcoming
And I don’t have to place my head in anybody’s nook
And I don’t have to wrap my legs around a warm body

I can watch TV until 2 o’clock in the morning
And wake up with heavy purple eyes
I can put my blankets in between my legs when I lay on my side
Because I hate to sleep with my thighs touching
And no one will be there to tell me that’s weird

I can sleep on my stomach with my hands under the pillows
Or I can sleep on my back because I have no one there to hold
I can snore, if I want to, I can even drool if I see fit
I can open the window if I want and listen to the sounds of the street
The creaky sign, and the drunk 20-somethings, getting hammered on a Tuesday
And I can wonder, all alone, what they got up to that night
And why they're all having so much more fun than me

But I think I’d rather be sweaty and confined
I think I’d rather share my blanket cocoon and lay my head in your arm pit nook
I want to kick my pillows on the floor and make room
To wrap my legs around my human and pull my blankets over us both
And wake up looking ugly together – with bed hair and tired eyes
Even if I snore, I’d like you to hear, even if I drool

When you can't see
It's hard to step out
Difficult to look in
Impossible to really listen

When you can't see
It's easy to get trapped
Simple to get caught up
Human nature to hide inside

When you can't see
There is no other option
No solution either
It's this and here, nothing more

When you can't see
No resolution will fit
Nobody's understanding is kind
And not a soul can know that
It's only you
And you've gone blind

I was heartbroken in San Francisco
But it wasn’t San Francisco’s fault
I had been abandoned
And I don’t think I’m being dramatic when I say,
left for dead

Isn’t that how you always feel?
When someone you love abandons you?
Like they wouldn’t care if you died
It’s not their business to care anymore
That’s the beauty in leaving
And the travesty

So I walked up the winding hills
And I took in the beautiful Bay Area
And I stared out at Alcatraz
And I walked along the Golden Gate Bridge
And when I asked my best friend,
How many people do you think have jumped off this bridge?
She said, let’s go home

We took a ferry to Sausalito one day
Where it was just as beautiful
We ordered tacos and margaritas
I couldn’t eat the tacos
I couldn’t eat anything
I was on the heartbreak diet

I tried to mask it,
Lord knows I failed
But I tried

I went to every gay bar I could find
I covered my face in makeup trying to mask the misery
I blasted the happiest song I could think of,
Which was Love Shack, by the B52s
I met a preschool teacher,
She offered me ******* in the bathroom of some bar
I don’t do drugs, but sometimes
You have nothing to lose

When I leave California, I told myself,
I will leave heartbreak behind
I will leave my heart in San Francisco, if you will
But that didn’t work out too well

Because when I got home, it was everywhere
It was in the walls, it was the smell of my own sheets
It was his leftover cigarette butts on my balcony
It was the flannels he bought me
Because I was always shivering at night
And his lighters in my coat pocket
Even the slight slant of my apartment’s floor
That he would always complain about
It wasn’t San Francisco, it was anywhere