Last night, I watched the pacific swallow the sun
Remembering us twirling on highway two’s sands
With the glow of orange and those birds we scared off
You smiled then
You don’t smile now
My head is a ghost town these days
Filled with thoughts that only drift bar to bar
Crossing your road holding all my new chest burning friends
But you think I don’t glance down as I stumble across
But dear, everybody does
I know you're rebuilding your fort hun
But you just busted your biggest stick
And even though it felt dry
It wasn’t dead yet
I wasn’t dead yet
Later, I’m coming back to you like an old fad
I’m wishing I could push your hour hand forward
But I’m so thankful that time is not a constant
Yet, I still make absolutely no sense
Because I see us soaked in love until we die
Me soaked in shame
And you soaked in pain
But, I think the pacific swallowed who we used to be
Maybe later we will surface in the Atlantic realizing who we really need
Still soaked in love and
Still so lost
So, if you’ll just leave that stick in your sandbox and back away
I’ll wait for another soft hand to build her fort
I’ve still got some years left in me
But thank you so much
For now, my blood pumps oak
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem