prefaced by the only glimpse of glamour that I could ever give.

you found me walking downtown streets alone.
I found myself wishing I hadn't gone down that road.

we can hold our guilt above our heads just until the dawn begins to break.
we can hold our guilt above our heads until the spell is broken.

and now my  eyes won't focus.
and now I'm losing my appetite.

you've seen me walking down the empty aisles, 
you've caught me wishing I could sweep the day into the night.

I walk and I wake, I never give,
and yet I always take.

this is your adult life.

we are going to be sophomores again.
a little bit less self assured,
a few more nights a week spent tired and bored.

when the chaos gives in to a good moment's rest,
I will salvage my soul to give you a show,
I am asking myself "can I do this?",
and the answer is, "no".

I walk and I wake,  and I never give,
but I always take.

this is your adult life.

don't sleep until the battery runs dry.
that page is still loading,
the sun outside is gloating, 
"why don't you come outside, 
the waters fine."

so many hours awake,  in bed.
so many things you could've done instead.

I insist on this, if anything, I insist on this.
because a girls gotta stand for something. 

don't eat,  don't sleep,
don't ever dry your eyes.
the pixels can numb you and your soul until the **** thing dies.
we can send eachother whatever search terms cross our slipping minds. 

goodnight.

the second night that I've known to drape my skirt over the light,

the second card in the tarot deck that never gave us any good advice,

the second drag,  the second sip,  the second year
the second trip.

the second time I've slept in a bed that isn't mine.
the only time I spent a night that was immortal,
and could not be measured as a waste of time.

the second child who misses her older brother,
who I have realized is my charge,
and gives me purpose as an angel,
a guardian angel,  undereducated and undercover.

the second day of 1995,
the youngest guest, the most naive friend;
and the last to arrive.

the second that I realized I was worth far more
than I was ever led to believe, the second decade and the very definition of disbelief.

the second glass of a drink you shouldn't take,
that leaves you out on the porch with a story you couldn't fake.

the bass, and the mattress,
the house that isn't mine.
the ache, and the sickness,
that will make you write the line.

"did you ever think you would be this blessed?"

it never rained, but it poured.

poured out some alcohol into my cup,
it wasn't red, wasn't that cliche.

I'm taking a vacation from every single bad thought I've ever had about myself.

I'm taking the day to drink and act the way I know I can when I don't think anybody is watching.

so here,
here you go.

here are the raindrops,
that fell on the car while we finished off the last of the thirty pack.

it's been days and it's been a year.

here is the last of the doubts I used to hold so close.

they have left me, and I have found myself.

the last drags of my cigarette.
the drizzle of the rain upon the awning.
just the memory of you

I want to press the **** of my cigarette
straight into the curve of my neck.
and let it burn.

I am so unsteady,  love.

I am so unsteady,  love.

sometimes I don't understand
the reasons why time has been good to us,
or the reasons why it hasn't.

every little day dissected,
and sorted into "wrong" or "right",
our sins pile up by our bedroom doors,
while we try to sleep at night.

I am ugly inside.
I am rotting.

it is easy to understand why. 

but I can't quite figure out when I went wrong,  
which of my sins tipped the scales

what brought me to this place?
and what is going to bring me out?

but I am so happy for you. 
when I see you smile,
when I see that time has been good to you,  because you were always good to me.

and I understand why I have never deserved it.