can you sleep next to me like brandon?
he had his arm under my neck,
and his other on my stomach–
and there we were like stuck.
it was amazing.
he was on his bright eyes era
i was singing the format
both of us depressed,
but working it out like that.
we still found ourselves
playing baseball
having a ball
and we both liked
kicking your asses
you were deepstate
we were papacy
and we killed you.
but like where did he go?
why did i let go of brandon?
can you sleep next to me like brandon?
i don’t know what happened to him
like did i chase him away?
did i fuck it up and cheat?
i was becoming a woman
just a teenage girl that finally finished
crying through puberty.
i was becoming a woman
not the little dancing, singing
smart girl that can die by slingshot.
i was becoming strong, less intelligent
but wiser and bigger.
it was like you took that cute little
war time killing machine
and decided she could like boys
and like, twirl her hair
and do normal things
like steal clothes
with her best friend
and fuck.
i wanted to sleep next to brandon.
so where did he go?
i spent my 20’s wondering why no one sleeps like brandon,
but i didn’t remember his name.
i just knew that i chase them all away
cuz i’m needy for a man that lets me sleep like brandon, did.
am i making this up?
is life a joke?
that i want a man that i once knew, to hold me
and i got nothing
NOTHING,
just men that kick me off
because their off beat breath patterns
are too much for both of us
and fuck life.
that i knew everything when i was 9.
and the rest of it was proving myself right.
