you said you would be here by 12. and i guess i should've known stealing your parents' car could only go so well, but i've never been good at keeping my hopes down. i was looking forward to helping you escape, just for a second: speeding a hole through the dark and pulling over somewhere, my thermos in hand. dad's tequila & the stars flickering like headlights: if we were still in love, this would be the moment when you'd kiss me.
but we're not, anymore, so you'd talk. you're angry at your parents. when you speak, all they can hear is the doctors saying obsessive, depressive, compulsive, erratic. self-destructive: 106 scars and 107 pills. if there's a god out there, then the only thing he's ever done for me is stopped you from taking one more.
it'd be down to me to stop you, though, if you shot us through the night, and i'm worried you wouldn't listen. you've hated me before, and sometimes it seems like that leftover gunpowder's gonna blow us into pieces. that you'd slam the gas as i screamed for you to stop 'cause you wouldn't save yourself for me anymore. and maybe i should run, but forgive me so i don't have to. your roots stretch the lengths of years beneath my skin; without you, my body would rot with dead flowers: my heart would close its blooms; my mind would decay with what once was.
so come over soon, ghost boy, 'cause i hate thinking about you like a memory. i'll hug you in the street and let your warmth convince me you'll forever be by my side. having your love like this is all i want: i can forget how you taste; i don't long to press your hands against mine. but promise me i'll always get to see your eyes glint when you smile. promise me, one day, we'll take our drive around town. promise me you'll always stick around.