College is a cancer clinic.
At this university, you either live long enough to die,
or die until you want to live.
Kids drag backpacks like bags of morphine,
and are attached to their planners like they are their heart monitors.
You do your own chemotherapy,
as you poison yourself with debt,
and Friday night nickel shots.

I think of you, early and often
When I wake you tip toe your way across my lips
I think you have unfinished business there
You twist your way into my words, rest easy in my breath
I never meant to soak you in
You tangle your life with mine, like your finger 'round your ribbons of hair
The world around me is ripe with nostalgia
Dripping sticky sweet memories of you, like syrup
You told me if we were born flying, we would spend our lives wishing we could walk
But we flew together
And walking just isnt doing it for me anymore