at the time a polaroid was a mark of friendship
so we decided to go raid a photobooth
but the pictures never captured
they didn't get the time to

because across the street was a fancy new camera shop
with a fancy new cashier
who had pretty, pretty hair
and could actually fit into a polaroid with you

and i was surrounded by the walls of a madhouse
from inside the photobooth
because you entangled the curtain entrance
so i was locked in

i wanted to see nothing
so i stared directly into the camera lenses
hoping the flash would blind me
because apparently you're blinded and happy

but i hit the wrong button
and the flash never came
but there were pictures printed
just of your hands around her waist

i took about 50 copies
and taped them to the lampposts lining abandoned cemeteries
i tossed the receipt into the lake,
i scattered the letters of your name into the rain