Peach

The blood from a peach runs down your chin blunts on the porch, your skin on my skin can we call it moving forward if it's a bolt bus to your house and we both know, we're going to lie here smoking til our lungs turn black just us and our bitter hearts looking at the stars for hours in the back of your car and we grow tougher than we feared, we've ever be forced to more tender than we have ever been possible 7 bodies crammed on the mattress, windows open the wallpaper peeling and fading and our trauma becomes washed out more abstract and stomped out I know I don't have everything worked out Call the people I miss, say I can't wait to kiss you, chain smoke on your front step lay my head on your chest ghost of friends, waist-deep lake deep in Lake Washington I will forget all the reasons why I'm not dead yet and all the cats in my neighborhood and all the times you asked for help and I couldn't give it and we feel lost like kids on the street inside our brains carved by abuse, love, survival and all those other things, one way streets internalized as we ride our bikes they become the neighborhoods we grew up in after all the phone calls, all the letters I wrote you you'd think I'd figure out the words to tell you how much I love you and I know its hard for you to feel like you deserve to feel good