We both liked the folded chips, the ones with the extra crunch
We both liked them the best, but you always saved them for me
It was a small gesture, but it was a gesture of love

We both liked to be the center of attention and sing or play guitar for everyone
We both liked to be the one with everyone’s eyes on us, but you always let me shine
It was another small gesture, but you never let me forget you loved me most

We both loved hard and powerful and passionately
We both loved in a way that I have still yet to match with another, but you always loved me harder
In the end it was my failure to connect that let us diminish into smithereens of failed high school sweethearts

A singular urge is a first,
reach out and stretch to grasp what's ahead.
Craving the crest of a wave,
we're high on the day as it's made.

Each is a slave where emotions are led,
fixed with impatient aches when we age.
Hard to remember which intentions were sent,
resetting said objectives of late.

Targets in sight from the white of your eye, these short lived events curl up in death.
Less than a wisp as it fades into air,
rolling along to reclaim what we shared.

I’m in the library, at school, trying to write an article for the school paper (and I'm not even ON the school paper). I’m on a forty-five minute deadline to complete a story someone else did poorly - on the edge of my vision I see someone step up to my table - a boy, I can tell, without looking up, from his school uniform. I’m hoping whoever it is will go away.. 44 minutes.
“Uhh-umm,” I hear.
My eyes flicker up and I ID “Everett Priestly” - one of God’s less ambitious efforts.
After a moment.
“Uhh-umm,” he does again.
“Parsley,” I say, without looking up.
“Priestly,” he answers with a sigh, "wanna play HOUSE?" he says conspiratorially, with a smirk.
"We were 7," I say, liberally applying syrupy boredom.

I’ve kind of known Everett Priestly forever - he lives two doors away from us - then my family became ex-patriots until three years ago. His family is rich, he’s handsome and I believe someone once told him he was charming. He fancies himself a lady killer but I’m willing to bet that he kills them with a combination of daddy’s money and poor driving.

“I’m awfully busy - on deadline Mr. Priestly - please send me a text,” I say, again, without looking up.
“I don’t have your number,” he says, patiently. “Would you like to go to Sandra’s party with a group of us Friday night?”
“OOOO! Let’s keep it that way,” I smile - this is too easy - 42 minutes.
“It’ll be FUN,” he says, with a smile in his voice - Oh, God, he’s trying charm.
“Everett,” I stop writing, look up and lean back. “You ask me out every two months. If you’ve made a bet with someone - like we’re living a teen movie - I’ll payoff the bet for ya if you just give it a rest, OK?”
He really IS good looking - but kissing him would be the apoco-LIPS.
“Why do you always say no??,” he asks, with a helpless 1/6th shrug and his GIGAWATT smile.
41 minutes.
“See you in January,” I say, as I slide my laptop closer in, give it my obvious, full attention and hopefully, start back to writing.
“Come to Thanksgiving!,” he says, as inspiration strikes.
“January would be MLK day,” I remind him. “Everett, PLEASE - deadline,” I plead (not looking up).
Everett, makes a snarky sound, turns around and slowly moves away - like a man headed for jail - he really SHOULD try out for the drama department, I decide. 40 minutes.

When Everett turned 16, his daddy gave him some kind of expensive foreign sports car - a really, really, really expensive sports car. Six hours later Everett guns this formula-one race-car out of a gas station, loses control, and totals it. The girl with him had to get stitches over her right eye.

His friends call him “EV” - they say it with a kind of a southern accent - that I can’t decide is fake or not, which gives it a hint of - “Elvis” - had a replacement car within 48 hours. He wrecked THAT one in less than six weeks - and his date got a concussion in the roll-over.

If he wants me to get in a car with him, he’s gonna to have to taser me.

Over the years I’ve heard that when a person is up at 3 am they’re either lonely or in love
I wonder which one I fall under from the two choices from above
When it’s all said and done I planned the perfect day for us, we’re gonna have some fun
Suddenly I wake up it was just a day dream, you were right there about to be in my grasp, how lovely that would be
I’d listen to you all night, my hands tracing your body, feels like ecstasy, and if you let me I’ll explore and hit all the right spots
I love the way you play during the day, you’re such a good girl who does a lot for her people without a thought
You’ve been so good and I’m proud of you, do you know what that means? You get to indulge yourself with a little treat
Staying up all night with the bright night light so I can remind you there’s light in the darkness
There’s a fire inside me and I’m pretty sure you’re the one who sparked it

Laying in bed next to someone but still feeling alone while I’m a low key mess
I’m not completely alone because I have one of my favorite girls always with me, Mary Jane to ease the daily pain
I’m off on an adventure to escape my life, gain a new experience that feels right, and explore the earth’s landscape
I’m thinking of our memories in high school, I try not to let them get the best of me but it’s hard when I’m feeling lonely
I remember our first kiss, the way we used to reminisce, and the way you used to love me
We were young and naive, back then I really ****** up, I begged you not to leave me
I didn’t mean to hurt you so bad, I was thrown into the water early in life, I didn’t know how to swim so I was slowly drowning
I’m speaking metaphorically just in case you don’t know, it’s a comparison of how I wasn’t taught to love properly
Not making any excuses I just want you to see my perspective and retroactively introspect it
I’ve been opening up lately and I want you to know how much I’ve grown by going to therapy to take a break from life and reflect on it
We’ve both changed and matured since then but there are qualities of you that remain and they’re the ones I’ve always loved
I miss our walks, the way we would tease one another, I loved to kiss you in the pouring rain, sometimes biting your lip a little rough
I miss your lips, and holding your hand just because I can and the way we were there for each other when push comes to shove
I’m lucky to have crossed paths with you because sometimes I desire another chance and I have two left feet but I’d dance with you if you wanted me to
No matter what I’ve done you never think less of me and that’s one of my favorite things about you
The days where we would pull each other out of our sadness and straight into a kind of love madness
You’re one of a kind and a lovely distraction, when our eyes meet that’s law of attraction
I love everything about you I don’t know where to begin or even start, like my mom and dad, you’re my high school sweet heart.

Go where the road untangles and unfurls
by those cliff side views over those blue curls
lit only by those high beams off those white pearls.

Only sense of direction is the road ahead
no going back just only forwards instead
as going prevents drifting to the sea bed.

The white sea foam crashes amongst the shore
those high beams persist only for Salvadore
the light bends around the corner then no more.

The drops are so much deeper,
and the highs aren't high at all.
Ongoing expectant measures listed,
of these persistent calls to pressure.
To fill a frame that's drained,
when switching off is no longer an option.
Are these real problems or signs of age?

Before was easier, yesterday simpler,
but would the early days help to mould,
when you've already grown from there.
Late observations of missed play,
a rug pull calls out the fool to vacate.
As we're a little bitter in vain,
there's no sweetness today.