All made up
Black fishnets
Watched you wreck a noise-punk set
The Market-Frankford line rattling the windows
Flashing forward 7 months
You come out to your parents
They’re ignorant but they wanna learn
Your brother takes the Bolt Bus down
He slips up with the wrong pronoun
Your blood it boils
You hate the sound
Just two years back
Drunk and depressed
15 Passenger backbench
Hiding from your three best friends
You knew something wasn’t right
Since your consciousness solidified
I know you were suffering a long time
Your bangs are fresh
You’re surfacing
Electric blue eyes flecked with green
Mallorca’s waters
Holocene