when we were young,
everything was bathed in sunlight;
we loved and we fought,
we thought we would live, strong,
forever.

summers spent on the shoreline,
waves lapping at our feet--
we'd walk the pier in the evenings,
jumping from rock to rock,
spiders being the tenants between the spaces.

and then we grew,
wild and reckless--
nights spent on drugs and ***,
nights spent on choices made and regretted,
nights spent on violence and self-destruction.

our town darkened like the bags beneath our eyes.
the water doesn't shimmer in the light like it used to,
the stars don't shine like they used to.
the lights in the buildings flickered out,
windows boarded.
we don't go out at night like we used to.

we're all waiting to escape before we become
the next teenage suicide,
the next dearly-departed and gone-too-young.

we were all beaten and battered,
breaking each other's hearts,
begging for an out,
only to end up homesick
for a place we always hated.

the lakeshore was all we knew.