A friday night in September; I'm driving home from a football game. Senior year. I have the windows down and the Smashing Pumpkins on. Our team lost, but I couldn't hear the crowd over the sound of our laughter, as we made out under the tiny baseball bleachers on the edge of campus. Right there, in the pitch-black, I decided to stop pretending like I didn't care, at least for this golden year. Our last year of real, undiluted youth. The sky streaked with black and blue in a color we'd never see again, at least not with the same eyes.
Crucify the insincere.
The game theme was camouflage and there you were in your dog-tags and shorts, smiling into my mouth like you were made of sunlight.
No comments:
Post a Comment
★