its been such a long day.

i want to watch roseanne when its raining and eat christmas colored mini-oreos and talk to hoodie on the phone. i want to sit in the backseat of ryans car with lauren after matt turned 21 and puked all over the burgandy room bar and listen to that one justin timberlake song that makes the car go faster. i want to see the ADAMS BLVD exit framed between her head and the back of the front seat, like a giant banner that says welcome home in handpainted letters. i want five minutes from one of those times that exists now only in the ways i make myself remember it. i want five minutes from afternoon rehersal of the fall play junior year, i want five minutes of the 3 hours hoodie and i walked into the worst part of chicago, watching the sun set and wondering why we werent seeing the big buildings yet. i want five minutes of going to the varsity with dad. i want five minutes from the blizzard of 93, when mom and i walked to Western and bought lunchables and saw the obscence snow-woman. i want five minutes of dancing at the bonsallo family christmas party, i want five minutes of the last night i was in LA before london, when we ended up doing handstands in bonsallo's living room and taking shots of brandy. i want five minutes from when ryne was here and all five of us slept like a pile of bunny rabbits on my bed, exhausted from the realization that we had all found each other. i want five minutes from sunday fucking night, from every sunday fucking night, i want the five minutes that end up floating around my head for the rest of the week like unhinged balloons, eventually escaping into this black hole that ill try for years to get back into. i want to hear him say, well what do we do know. i want to turn up that tori amos song until glass breaks all around me and the ocean and the sky collides at the me-axis and i cant hear the disaster because all i can hear is those words that dont even have to mean anything. i want the cafe trieste and the only Him thats never left, i want it so badly that ive forgotten what its like to cry about it, or miss him or need him or remember waking up with our bodies stuck together. i want to thaw out enough for me to tell you where it hurts. i want it to stop hurting everything.

do your ears pop when we go this high?
only when we go deep.
if you close your eyes would you know the difference?