the years are gone

You're laughing off the chaos, but praying no one gets shot. In the end we go back to beginnings and wonder who started it all. I take credit. So should you, but I wasn't the one laughing in the introduction. And the middle. Laughing all up until the climax, right? That's how you do it and, really, I'm not all that surprised.

I pray nightly, but I somehow forget about the mornings. Too eager. Is there something poetic about admitting that we can't sleep? Because I can sleep; I just choose not to. You've said that you can't sleep, but you've conked out on me during every single movie night we've ever had.

You're laughing off the big bang like it never happened.

Brushing off the snow, but getting your fingertips wet.

You hit the curve when you parked, but I admit that I sometimes participate in backseat driving. It was me again. All me. I can see that you're about off your rocker, but you laugh it off like a pick-up line. And when's the last time we rushed out to chase the ice-cream truck?

That dumb welcome party warned us about this. Unfortunately for me, I missed the welcome party. Or maybe that's fortunate. I don't know.

As soon as you care about the mainstream, you stop caring about what you really want. That's for the hipsters too. Stop turning down the music and just listen to it. Overplayed isn't a word in my vocabulary. And are you still laughing off the chaos, or has someone finally been shot?

I'm sorry. That's morbid, and I'm usually oh so optimistic.

Roll up the inches on the meter stick the way I roll up my pant legs. Maybe then I'd feel closer to you. And when you held my hand, I swore I flew up into the clouds and had stars in my eyes. When did you stop being the one taking up my thoughts and who is this new person and when will I finally get to really know him the way I kind of knew you.

And why did we stop trading Pokémon cards? Why did the years run off, and where did they go? When did I gain confidence. Really, when?