That October stole my heart
When we drank pumpkin beer and smoked apple tobacco around the kitchen table of a now foreign Ghost

It's funny
No -
It's tragic
That a single whistle pulls me back into that basement
On a musty couch, hidden under men's clothing

I am wearing pink shorts
And you left an empty house to see me

I am offering you a beer and of course, you don't accept it
And we listened to the greatest songs I've ever heard

Something about the acoustics found in a room with burn marks and my best friend lying on the carpet

I am not sure if I am in love with you

I am in love with the memory of that night

The best and worst thing about life

Is that nothing has to make sense

Some things just happen

Some nights just make your head explode

Some nights you dance on brick to your old favorite songs with your best friends

When you were born, you didn't cry.
2. Your mother did not understand how you held your composure, but your father knew of silence in times of miracles and hospital gowns.
3. Your hair is whatever color fits the facets on the ceramic sink in your Current Hometown.
4. You were gifted with Delilah's able fingers - not to cut the hair of your blind bearded boy, but to meet with piano keys on early September mornings.
5. Your lips are the border of liberation. They are red from the blood ridden boots of soldiers traveling from your chin into your throat, seeking serenity.
6. Your voice is a memory of a strangers first love - unrequited, tragically beautiful, and played on repeat.
7. When you were four you broke your own heart.
8. Your insides are painted in stripes of green and white - green for grasses and a shy boy's house shutters, white for the absence of feeling - comfortably numb.
9. You made a green and white striped basement home for two years, and realized that we do not have to call our insides home.
10. You drink brown bottle whisky to forget forbidden phone calls on far away spring nights.
11. You drink green bottle beer to remember dancing on her carpet , talking about poetry, and hugging the ones that have turned into ghosts on far away spring nights.
12. When you were eight you tried to pull the sun from his jealous sky and badly burned your palms - the blisters looked like four women's silhouettes and after that, words started storing themselves in the callouses.
13. There are boys living under your fingernails, escaping heartbreak.
14. When you were born the doctor cried at the sight of your porcelain skin, something so beautiful can't go without breaking.
15. Your mind is more beautiful than any skin I've seen, and **** the doctor for pitying something he would never know.
16. Everything breaks.
17. The doctor who delivered you went to school for ten years to discover something that the moon taught you in one night.
18. Forever.
19. You are the melody of a summer - naked in the pool, running through the fields, golden browned by fire in sky, screaming songs into every abyss, every void, every absence, every white stripe, filling the space, reversing, slowing, and replaying time.
Your record plays forever in my mind.
There is a white light shining from every part of you - an immortal deity in this world of unbelievers.

I didn't understand how bad it would hurt
How hard my ribs would shake
Or how tightly I could clench my jaw without breaking it

Wet grass broke my heart
Plastic tarps taught me how to hate myself
Metal cans frizzed my hair and sliced my throat
Fireworks burned my thumbs and left the kitchen lights on
We're all pushing twenty and things are going stale
Chlorine burns my brain even if I hold my nose
I slept inside with the mountain boy and my best friend
While they were naked in the dirt
I didn't want to leave The Survivors, but she saw my seams begin to fray, stitched me up, and put me to bed
The broken hearted girls stayed apart that night
I couldn't hear your American Screams and I'm sorry

I had a mental breakdown in a grocery store yesterday
Linoleum floors caked with dirt and a mother scolding her child

Brick barely coated in chipping white paint
Across from a theater with red crushed velvet seats
Green backyards & girls gripping beers
A beamed basement, home of the mountain boy
Not far from the teepee
Brown wood as dark as his ***
Ashy black woods where you gave me your sweatshirt
And my blue hair turned gold
Pale sun in bottles on his back porch
In the orange glow of early summer
Red blood drunkenly thrown away from a broken heart
And the saddest color I've ever seen
The color of something that could never be
The color of you and me

We promised one another
We would be eighteen forever
That no matter where studies took me
Or where the music took you
We would be eighteen forever
That through dents in your car
And cuts on my legs
We would be eighteen forever

It was okay that no one understood what we were
Because we didn't know either
It was okay that we both drank for sport
And held hands on the couch in the Fall
When you were sixteen -
Maybe Less
Maybe A Little More

You said you'd stay eighteen forever