and if this parking lot is the sole spectator of my heart attack,
i’m okay with it.

and this feels like something siken would wax poetic about,

you’re sitting in a ****** sedan with broken windows with a pretty girl in a parking lot-

but again and again, i’ll beat him to it.

i’ll wax poetics about you until your shoes are shiny and your ring is gleaming.

for once in my sixteen years of life, i love you becomes a real, tangible thing i can touch.

for once in my sixteen years of life, ten years from now doesn't matter, because twenty-six will not feel like this.

and if you’ll throw away this memory in three months, i’ll pick it up and store it in a glass jar next to my bed.

because at sixteen, all you are is real.

Say every year is a step away
From who you once were
And is a step closer
To who you will be

Ten years is ten steps
Ten steps and ten lessons
Ten lessons that shape
Who you will become

In ten years you will be
Ten steps away from now
And ten steps
Closer to then

Say ten years ago you liked fiction
And now, ten years later,
You only read memoirs

Say ten years ago you were angry
An now, ten years later,
You can’t remember why

Say ten years ago your hair was brown
And now, ten years later
Your hair is blonde

Say ten years from now you live
In a big city with loud noises
But now, ten years before,
You live at home and are uncertain

Say ten years ago you
Would never do that
And now, ten years later,
It is all you ever do

Ten years full of growth
Ten years full of lessons
Ten years full of discovering
You and what makes you whole

Say ten years ago you felt alone
And now, ten years later,
You have comfort
In solitude

we stay up all night
for no particular reason, and you tell me
all sorts of things that i want to hear
and it's funny because (like a little inside joke)
you know what you're doing. you know
that i know what you're doing.
but you tell me anyway, because
the black mold on your ceiling is shaped like a heart.
because your favorite character from that one show
you can't stop thinking about
reminds you of me. and i wanna tell you to stop,
i wanna make you wish you were here
just to shove my head on the ground
by my hair, rip my lying tongue out with teeth -
but why should i care?
(masque ou décor, salut!)
baby, if we're gonna break each other apart
we better make it count.
the pain better be what it takes
to grind a billion galaxies into a single
aching spot of phenomenal heat.

we'll restart the universe with this. but meanwhile,
did you know (it's funny, like an inside joke)
that pain means bread in french?

you are curled into a shell of a back hallway
into the syncopated off-beat
into the dark when I close my eyes when I cannot bear to watch this anymore
I have seen it
I have seen this movie and the hero dies at the end and the girl cries
the funeral is too loud in the grave by the highway where the cars can’t stop
won’t stop

and I am bleeding out in between your fingertips
I am pouring out between the ridges of the carpet and even in all of my pieces I can see you refuse to admit that you are holding my life in your hands

I could live without you for at least an hour
I could do it
I could forget
I could live for sixty glorious minutes
I could crush the bitter glass between my swollen lips and taste you on every ragged inhalation
and live
I don’t believe you
neither do I but you could at least lie, for my sake, you could at least try to pick up the pieces
What pieces?
*******
What pieces?
the pieces
What pieces?
the ones on the pavement
What pavement?
my pavement
The pavement you chose, the pavement you are painted on, the pavement you are falling between the cracks of
Yes, the pavement
It’s red hot this time of year
I know.  How long has it been?
4 minutes
Am I dead yet?
No
Am I alive?
Not quite
*******
You’re just in pieces
I know.   How much longer till I’ve won?
A lifetime
Well how long will that take?
How should I know?
Am I done yet?
The girl’s feet won’t be ****** after she runs down the street
It’s dry, then
Cleaned,  by now
How long?
*Long enough