sixteen july
one : sixteen a.m.

"i left my show to come get you."

pink flip flops and blueberry lip gloss, grabbed my keys and she drove us over the tracks, parked in the lot across the street. i recognized him and him and her, but not her or her. she didn't say hello. he did.

and they played, and he amazed everyone (for the final time as their singer), and kissed my eyelids during the last song.

we lingered (for hours) afterwards. them smoking and drinking and me inhaling, because the smell is starting to feel like home.




listen : fita; bright eyes; rhcp (in the next room)