Memories I hold so dear, buried in a box.
beneath the other useless junk I told myself I lost.
here, there is a pencil, mechanical, black and orange
tales from middle school crushes I wish I had been warned.
about the things that I would lose, the things that turned out fake.
I wish I would've known that I would give more than they'd take.
here's a broken glow stick from a time that felt more fun. The glowing might have faded,
but the night will remain young.
trapped inside our hearts, where simpler ideas were thought
things...