and you have always been one for loving me anyway
when my wandering bones
touch your doorstep this time
i know i will not be welcomed...
remember me when your soul is creaking open and you feel like you can let a little memory in.
like the first time we fell
and the last (few) times we vowed we never would again
like the time we thought it was fucking hilarious
to put the smuggled kitten in a dorito's bag
remember me like the way we stayed up til 714
every day one summer
falling asleep to dashboard and smashing pumpkins
in fact, remember me in this way:
mellon collie and the infinite sadness: 1979.
david bowie. buddy holly. conor oberst.
uncle dave's naked No Doubt guitar pickin'
the spice girls. dance routines to n'sync and the backstreet boys
my quest for new original sound
perideum flux (whom i never found)
junkie rush. green day (before american idiot)
hooba freaking stank.
even my lesbian music that you pick up on because it and you were
just that awesome
remember me in the essays we stole from each other
and the songs we wrote together,
in our inability to stick with any of the musical instruments
we just keep on buying.
remmeber me in the ways i sought you out,
in the ways we never really knew each other
but understood perfectly
our manic attempts to grasp something larger than what we knew.
remember me, but not in this,
the last way i (never) say good bye.
© 2009 Marcea L. Brown. All rights reserved.
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