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We were once and then we were 7:29 p.m. 2011-08-26 Remember when the words weren't rusty? We used to live in shadowed fairy-tale homes, the drywall and the other bits interrupted by the insomniac somethings of our teenage unwithered dreaming; imagining circles beneath our eyes we were too young to live and regret 8 years later. I remember trains that felt like they were taking us- strangely shaped strangers fatefully and fitfully twined together- to some distant symbol of a city, even though it was only downtown, and I saw you every day, and I'd already been across vaster oceans and emerged unscathed. Remember? I miss you; and I miss us then. I remember songs that struck me pensive and made me want to write you; I can still feel the same way 'bout them, but I need whisky and rooftops now, back then it was just the sound and the pictures behind these eyes (only younger). 8 years later and I'm stronger, yeah, not any prettier that's for sure but I guess sometimes I still feel cut in half. I don't know if its lengthwise (you each get half!) or the other-wise and my head and my heart- all the good bits- are laying somewhere in the not-so-distant North. I used to fit so well in your basement and we'd just hide and now I'm contemplating basements of my own... nothing to put inside them though, nothing precious like that to hide away underneath the ground. Does first mean the best? I doubt it, but first is still something... Its as simple as nostalgia and feeling old at twenty-three and as complicated as love via bottled letter. back & forth |