I’m longing for that thrill. The kind that pieces you together with nothing and everything all at once. I was invincible, you know. I swear it’s true. Maybe we all were. I think back to your parent’s basement. How we talked about everything and nothing and that shimmer in your eye wasn’t a tear. How finality felt so fucking far away. The nicotine didn’t hurt us yet. Empty bottles meant nothing. You still trusted strangers. Fast cars and songs about forgetting. Nice boys with cruel smiles and a need to show it off. My sun kissed skin and your bloodied lip that didn’t heal because you probably needed stitches. Standing on the towns border swearing that we were in two places at once. Creating some sort of magic in this thing called girlhood. I still write about it, you know. I remember the things you chose to forget and weaved it through my spirit with the hem of our noise. I still taste it in the air. My belly aches for it like a need as my mind yearns for it like a drug. The taste still hits the back of my throat, but quickly turns sour. But I remind myself that I got the chance to live it. I promise that I fucking lived it. I’m not daydreaming, I’m just homesick for my youth. -AMT©️