melted

let's take a road trip to paris

you promised me, someday.

i want to drive with you once i get a license, like in those movies with the montages, summer breeze in our hair, windows down, radio up.

you'll never

trust me

not with driving; i'm a maniac but you are restless, chasing after my friends, are you one of them? i'm not like them, i don't tell good enough stories, i am not as extremist liberal, but neither are you.

you still

like the yankees

and i want to forgive you, want to tell you that it's okay, i shouldn't be frustrated over baseball teams yet it's the least of my problems with you. you have a better throwing arm than i remember, you are more competitive than i remember, you are more attractive than i remember, and i never said the last one.

you don't

agree with me

on anything, i barely speak to you anymore, my heart and my soul is personified into a girl who is more popular than i could ever dream of being, and you laugh with all of them across your shoulders. your shoulders are wider than i remember, and maybe it's the stripes on your shirt or that smirk on your face but i can't help but suddenly it feels as if it's all unadulterated loathing, you know what i mean.

let's take a road trip to paris
the sun on our heels
don't just promise me a throwaway dream
for i will take it, i will run
and i will fly across the seas
i don't want you to take my hand
but simply watch as my shadow lengthens
and i can bring you with me
because i want you
to be there with me
it's a gift
from myself, to myself
i change my style, switch it up
watch as i scream, as i change
years pass and i will too
and so will you, i promise that
i'll save enough.

when we graduate, we'll go.