(I'm back by the way, sorry for leaving if you cared.)
Mom jeans, yellow button-up shirt,
pineapple socks, Doc Martens.
Knock off Ray Bans,
too clumsy to care for real ones.
One eyebrow looks different from the other,
like a cousin from Texas you didn't know you had.
I stepped out onto my patio,
inhaling the smell of Humid woods.
The trees aren't moving,
but a breeze strong enough to admire is there.
Wishing for blue jays instead of cardinals,
I watch the little red birds on the trees.
What a place,
a home-like place that isn't home.
In my car,
my phone connects to the radio.
John Mayer,
softly playing at a level 11.
Just enough for me to hear,
but only me.
Fast forward.
I pick up my friend,
the one who means the world and everything in it.
Him and I argue for a minute,
deciding who really deserves to play their music.
Of course he'll win,
only because I adore his music taste more.
Any song he'll play will amuse me,
giving me a feeling of nostalgia.
Begging to stop at his favorite juice bar,
I pull into the drive thru.
One strawberry, one pineapple,
two different fruits that give similar happy feelings.
Fast forward.
No,
we don't know where we want to go.
But we'll drive.
And we'll drive for hours,
even if it's on the same road.
We'll laugh, and we can even cry,
driving in circles.
Around the city,
until we realize we're crossing another State line.
That doesn't matter to us,
John Mayer is playing.
Now at a level 20,
we both hear him loud and clear.
I hear more,
and I'll always smile to it.
My friend sings,
his voice intertwining with John.
Can I say it's beautiful,
no.
Because he knows it is,
he knows I know it is.
This moment,
it also is beautiful to us.
To others it's two kids disobeying their limits and rules.
But to Him and I,
It's just a day.
A simple day for us,
crossing another state line until we forget our old town.
