Best friend and I swing by in small rollercoaster.
I miss my childhood but I don't miss me.
I hate younger me. Terrible child, worse teenager-
too many affectations. Swang by, we did, and we
smiled; I could have kissed his face, but, then,
I liked girls too much. I still do.  
Intimacy is so often unbearable.
I'd just rather stick my face into someone else's
then call it a day.
Maybe, after, talk a little bit.
I loved you, my friend,
watching the world go by the way we did.
I would have kissed your face if you let me.
I would have I would.