Where is my glass of warm milk before I sleep?
Instead, I gaze upon this wreath of disappointment.
Where did it go? The peached-colored sky that wrapped
Our innocence in vulnerable delicacy.
I want to find that face again that makes my blood hotter
Each time it inches into mine.
I said, one last puff of smoke before I close my eyes
and when I opened them, it was almost like it did not happen.
They say I should try to make the feeling come alive
In other terms, and I've tried seventy-seven times to light it up
The bulb that blew its fuse within my ribcage - but to no avail.
I no longer sang the lullabies that put me to sleep.
I no longer walk along the pavements of what I use to call home.
I am no longer me and you are no longer you.
We swear we would try to not become the haunting characters of tomorrow.
Yet here we are, stuck in these paper towns.
Run when you can, I tell myself. Destroy the fire and vanish in the dark.