The blood from a peach runs down your chin

Blunts on the porch, your skin on my skin

Can we count it as moving forward if

It's just a bolt bus to your house?

We both know we’re gonna lie here

Smoking till our lungs turn black

Just us and our bitter hearts

Looking at stars for hours in the back of your car

And we grow tougher than we feared

That we'd ever be forced to and more tender

Then we had ever thought possible

With our seven bodies crammed onto my mattress

Windows open, the wallpaper peeling and fading

And our trauma becomes washed out

More abstract and stomped out, and

I know even though I don't have everything worked out

I'm gonna call all the people

I miss to say I can't wait to kiss you and

Chain smoke on your front step

Lay my head on your chest

Ghosts of friends

Waist-deep in lake Washington

I will never forget all the reasons

I'm not dead yet

All the cats in my neighborhood and

All the times you asked for help and I couldn't give it

We feel lost like kids on the streets

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 neighborhood we grew up in

After all of 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 it’s hard for you to feel like you deserve to feel good