| Now that you know
|
| Do you feel safe hidden in plain sight?
|
| Extend the hand I thought I would follow
|
| Cum-soaked cracked concrete, the summer of the gun
|
| His voice had a short moment of echo
|
| With a promise that burrowed inside me
|
| And like an echo, it took a while to fade
|
| As he tried to guess my age
|
| Fragile worlds worldbuilding, I’ll meet you there
|
| It’s softer seasons fade, you’ll feel it in the air
|
| And all of that feedback you have in your ear
|
| Blurs out all memory of each blurred out year
|
| Me and you won’t speak again
|
| Still tell yourself I’ll always be your friend
|
| Northbound, east side
|
| And did it feel safe keeping a veiled life?
|
| A living conflagration is throwing my shadow
|
| Now burned into pavement, the summer was not done
|
| Asks me softly, «What brought you to these ends?»
|
| «It gives me back a part of me I’ve lost»
|
| Then hands me all that I asked for
|
| Eyes cast low and says I’m worth more
|
| (I felt the sun come through the drugstore window
|
| In softer seasons, your bruises all clear
|
| And even if I change, I don’t think you’d know
|
| A softer season that lasts for a year)
|
| Me and you won’t speak again
|
| Still tell yourself I’ll always be your friend
|
| The leaves will fall slow, unobserved
|
| And I’ll be strong, I’m strong here in this world |