i fell in love underneath the yellowing trees and your falling hair, falling falling falling everywhere around your shoulders grazing your collar bones cupping your face. breathing machines and anthropomorphized human beings. you are also an invention, from lace and jump ropes and knots tied in the backs of dresses.
abandon all semblance of tense consistency, because we are, we were, we will be, we might have been. they’re wrong, all of them, they are. we forget sometimes that we are young.
we wanted to be pretty girls smoking on street corners, dangling our bare arms out of car windows, pressing our faces to soft clothes in expensive stores. we weren’t all that honest or real or anything because ghosts are real god is real lies are real, people believe in them and no one believes in us.
we will always be lost people reading license plates trying to find our way to the shore.
