a phone call to show me what i cannot see: i miss you and my eighteen-year-old world. another year older, i'm gonna stay twenty forever and go to braid reunion shows so i can keep stalking bob nanna. and p.s., he loves me. a dozen roses is my new favorite cover song and when i drive past houses that embrace a former lifetime, i will think happy nostalgic thoughts. pimp my ride, pimp my feet, pimp my awesome make-shift t-shirt because its iron-on letters spell out your name/cheer up emo kid. bike rides are my present and birthday parties are my past. drown your anxiety in an empty summer swimming pool three thousand yards in the future.
