packing for nyu. queensbury, ny. 2005

you start to realize time isn't the same all the time.
you start to realize your time isn't the same all times.
and no matter how much i mock this place i still hear wind chimes.

we got to the point in the road where we could brake,
or gas. i doused myself in it and lit a match. i turned around cause,
one minute i was on fire, the next i was twenty-two and tired.

that summer was unreal. i fell asleep on the beach and woke up
on concrete. the shady swing onto a busy street. we told the lies
that nobody else would touch. you touched my shoulder but it never
really meant all that much.