93: for drew

it was very loud in the night time, and i thought to myself,
"this is what we've been reduced to".
we took our tired eyes and tired minds, stumbled home with them,
flipped our soundtrack to side b,
and stumbled out again.

do you get it? this is our life.

this is our life and this is our city;
we cannot sleep like we do elsewhere.
we can murmur more questions,
lose that sound into the dark like the missing day in february.
there is hardly ever an answer,
but there is also hardly a question too stupid to ask.

and whoever she may end up to be,
i hope for you only the best, my dear friend,
because there is something i have that i think i deserve:
a fair boy's fragrant kiss, his warm hands in this cold winter.
you know,
i want you to be happy like i am happy,
live every week like it's the final week,
smile like you're counting snowflakes and sunsets into these magical hours,
because you deserve that and so much more.