i see you everywhere i go

why isn't the first thing i write a post about graduation
a nod to "we made it"
an anthem to the last-minute term papers and the night-before cramming

why isn't the first thing i write a letter to summer
because i personify everything and haven't gotten around to the seasons
because i want to tell her i was waiting at the bus terminal
but i picked up the call from my ex-husband winter
and i left to pick up his dry cleaning
even though we hadn't talked in lifetimes

but maybe i don't want to tell her
because i missed the phone call
but i heard the voice mail
informing me her sister spring had ran a red light
in her haste to pick her up
because where the hell was i
and spring's life had been cut short at the age of twenty six

but this isn't a letter to summer
because even at commencement i waited for you to cross the stage
i waited for your name to be called
i waited to see if you'd pull a gang sign or pump your fist
i waited to hear the laughter
i waited

because the first day i slept in until four, i saw you and i woke up
because you were so beautiful
and no this ain't no metaphor
this ain't no ballad of the broken-hearted
i don't pretend to know the definition of teenage love
this ain't gonna be a book or even a chapter
this is no tribute to the dying
this is not gonna feed the homeless
maybe it gets twelve page views or less
ain't no retweets on twitter
no likes on instagram
it doesn't even belong on facebook for your estranged uncle
or your aunt who likes cats

but it's a letter to you from my heart
and the sentences may run on and the days too
and you're gonna move to arizona
but i'm not gonna forget

listen i saw you at every ride at lagoon
even though we aren't on speaking terms
i walked past you twenty times at the "all-night party"
even though we couldn't look each other in the eye
all this seeing and we couldn't wave
couldn't form the words

i see you everywhere i go
i see you everywhere

and it's easy to say i'm following you but if i am
why did you get on the same bus as me
why are you behind me in line
why do you foot the same roads knowing you'll see me along the way

maybe you're following me
but if you are
why do i always see you first

you'd rather fuck than face attachment
but it scares you to fuck someone with a brain in their head
with a heart in their chest
with eyes that remember

you decided you're going on a mission
and maybe i'm a threat
because i just remembered i believe in god

listen we are bad for each other
we are bad bad bad

all i want to do is hear you talk
but i'm tired of forcing the words
and i'm talking talking talking to fill the silence
and you don't know how to react when i talk about tragedy

when my soul is scared you think kissing is the answer
but with this anxiety eating up my chest
how could my lips ever have the solution
you can't slap a band-aid on my lungs and tell them to breathe

my lips will make you grateful if you're brave enough to sing them
but we don't even kiss anymore

because when you tell me death is easy
when you tell me death is a cheap hooker
death is unbuttoning your pants
she's led you on with her lap dance
i tell you life is worth the money
but when i tell you death is whispering in my ear touching my chest just right
you nod

like you understand
but i don't want someone to fucking understand
i found enough of them in rehab

i want someone to tell me they'd go to my funeral and they'd hear every word
they'd stay up wondering about me and regrets would fill their head like song lyrics
they'd cry a little
especially at night
and they'd tell me death is easy but life is worth the wait

i miss you
i miss you
and you are good
and i am good
but we are bad

everytime i dial your number from memory
i convince myself not to press the green button
because we are bad bad bad

and it doesn't matter how much i want you
how much i think about my head on your shoulder
how many times my heart's gone into the ER asking for morphine to dull the pain
how many times i read and reread and reread
because it isn't love
it's attachment and the inability to say no
it's memories burned into the back of my eyelids

but how could it ever be love
if we are too scared to walk the tightrope and run away to the circus
if we choose sloppy hookups instead of each other
if all this bathwater is coursing through my veins
with the image of your face on the frontline
and i'm shaking my head to clear the memories
if all our backseat sins involved me begging you to hurt me
how is this love

and you sell a lot of things at that junction
maybe you give me some short-lived seventh heaven
you had a recipe book for distraction in aisle six
i even saw you set a coupon on the counter
for another sexual encounter

but bliss never came in a bottle
and when did you ever sell me peace