the stars in the margins.
10:02 PM
you were sixteen
couldn't breathe
back porch, 73 degree beauty.
ratted hair
ankle socks
5'6' with a decade worth of plans
and a high school career worth of empty gas tanks.
no blonde ponytail in cut off denim
no fly-by, goodbye, long night eyes
watching weekends tumble by like the Atlantic.
you pieced together your own sky
out of criss cross stars left in the margins
because the ones on the ceiling
are only lesser lights
and you knew that.
you never had to walk to school
but you envied the kids who did.
no one told you you had to cuff your jeans
until senior year
and by then, you were already playing catch up.
so you sang about God and state rings
and real talk and CS Lewis
and Youth Lagoon and hell
and everything and nothing.
you sang about blonde ponytails
in cut off denim
and road trips with someone else's paycheck.
but you never forgot about the Atlantic,
or the stars on the ceiling.
4 comments
Reagen you have a rainbow inside your voicebox and I quite frankly adore it
ReplyDeleteI agree^^^ how you word things and everything is so perfect
ReplyDeletetthis is too good reag. So visual but so mysterious at the same time.
ReplyDeleteAll I see is gold (cause I have that one weird thing you claim you have ;))
ReplyDelete