A Short Conversation

We rode around

In circles
In the middle of the night
We decided we were better than everyone

Decided to assume the title of rebel without a cause
We talked about the suburbs
And how everyone here is devoid of meaning
We talked about the places we would go when we had money

And the people we would see.
We talked about assholes from high school

And dreamed of the day we would look down on them
Off of high pedestals, with more to our hours than they had to their names

We whistled in the moonlight
And held hands in the tall grass

We made blood pacts with safety pins and wrote down everything we wanted out of love
We said we hoped he would have long hair and tattoos and sing in a band maybe

We hoped he would tell us we were pretty and look past all the things we see
We said all of these things and put them in a book

In a nook in the attic
And left it all there and let memories fade
Until today when I found it
In an old house, on an old beaten road
In a house that was bought and now is sold
And I look in the mirror and in the air I drown
Because I know I have let that little girl down

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