I miss being 18
Maybe I miss the muted skyline I could see from my bedroom window, past the trees, past the field where I laid down on dead grass and had my first kiss

I miss riding my bike on cobblestone
I’d hold on to the handle bars as my wheels skipped over the cracks
and come home with bruises and a sore back and a drenched scalp
Still, I’d keep my balance
I’d look to my right and see a pretty girl in the reflection
With long blonde hair and an arched back

I used to breathe fire in November
I used to bring a bottle of rosé to a rich girl's house party
I'd kiss your "friend" on the cheek, and linger
and in the morning, I'd lie with/to a man I tried so hard to love because I knew he adored me
But God
I adored me

Now I'm only a half of a person
I look out of my new bedroom window, and see a city I still don't understand
I see a soulless road named after a place I couldn't trust, a place that belonged to you
Oh no, a sunny day has broken my heart…

Could I go back to that party?
The kind where I’d arrive and know where to stand
You know, where I’d fill a red cup with something domestic
and look edible
Not the kind where the walls are foreign, and so is my accent

Hmmm…
If I can't be distracted by a silhouette in club ivy
If I can't take an empty ferry back to Manly beach, and watch the sun rise over Bennelong Point
When the city extra sign runs out of power, and I unlearn how to live
When all I know how to be
is addicted to my memories
Oh man
Now I really hate you