Do you remember when it rained all night? We sat by the woodstove and traded our lives. Now me I have secrets and yours you won't share, our teeth in the ice and our feet in the air. The mother you lost lies in textbooks somewhere, but you have her eyes and your grandfather's hair. And the lights in the hallway would burst when you'd say, "I fucked up, I'm sorry. Tonight, please just stay." And I told my brother I wanted to die. Now sometimes it's hard to look him in the eye. Cause if I were just half of what I'd hoped to be I'd never have let myself turn into me.

Holy father, drunk before dinner. Holy mother, praying for we sinners. And I can't see these patterns form around us. No, I can't see, so my eyes just strain to focus. We were jacket thieves and we couldn't build a boat, so we tied our laces to anything that floats. Holy brother, sorry for the bruises. Holy sister, sacrosanct and clueless. And we can't wait for a consecrated breeze. No, we can't wait for our feet to freeze again. We were jacket thieves and we couldn't build a boat, so we tied our laces to anything that floats. Holy lover, we were jacket thieves. Holy lover, that's just what you do to me. And we can walk all along the water, so we'll just walk until our feet all falter. We were jacket thieves and we couldn't build a boat, so we tied our laces to anything that floats.

Catch the spark, inhale the ghost. We sit around, it blows out smoke. Our fingers fumble in the dark. You lay me down, I leave my mark. You say to me, "Love, take off your clothes." You use your mouth to tell me so. We hide in tunnels in your room. You dirty me, I dirty you. Your father calls, I grab your phone. "Sir, I found your daughter under snow. I held her shaking hands in mine and we prayed for heat we'd only feign to find.

I'm on some highway headed north on Church St. I called some friends and they're gonna meet me somewhere. I took some pills and they're supposed to fix me, but I, I called the doctor; she said, "Oh, please forgive me. But I'll remember your name." There's furniture and wheelchairs and broken down cars and I can't help this feeling that things are getting hard around here. My father dies inside the marrow of my shoulders. I called my brother; I guess it's getting colder. Rearview mirror looking backwards on my way home. I left my wallet, my backpack, my keys, and my phone. I'm in some stranger's car. He says his name is Ray. I ask him where we're going, he says he doesn't really know the way. "But I'll remember your name." There's furniture and wheelchairs and broken down cars and I can't help this feeling that things are getting hard around here. My father dies inside the marrow of my shoulders. I called my brother; I guess it's getting colder. But I'll remember your name.

I was sitting on your front porch trying to think of something else to say. I finally said, "Kiss me, or would you rather I just went away?" And it's 2:17 in the morning. I should be finding home sometime soon. I don't get reception here, I should let them know I'm alright. And you call me in the morning, I haven't even gotten out of bed. You say there are words and seeds you can't get outside of your head. Now it's 2:17 in the evening. I should be getting out of bed, I should be These are just some things I've been trying to figure out. I wanna figure out how you could join the army, how there are open fields in cities. I want to understand how you're always around. These are just some things I've been trying to figure out. We were sitting in my backyard talking about some shit from the past, as if we don't expect that it might find us here. And it's 8:21 in the evening, I keep looking down at my phone as if I'm waiting for something more important. Maybe it's all of these poppyseed bagels we've been eating. Am I still high from this evening? Maybe it's all of these feelings I've been feeling. Maybe I just want you to fucking leave. These are just some things I've been trying to figure out. I wanna figure out how you could join the army, how there are open fields in cities. I want to understand how you're always around. These are just some things I've been trying to figure out. I want to figure out how you could join the army, how I get lost in the city. I want to understand all these meanings I've found. These are just some things I've been trying to figure out. Maybe it's all of these poppyseed bagels we've been eating. Am I still high from this evening? Maybe it's all of these feelings I've been feeling. And it's 2:17 in the morning and you call me in the morning. I should be getting out of bed. I want to figure out how you could join the army, how I get lost in the city. I want to understand all these meanings I've found. These are just some things I've been trying to figure out.

I was thinking about September when you said not to forget about the string around my head. "It'll pull you through oceans, underwater." But that still won't be enough to save your daughter. And the Delaware poured rivers out of my ears, and the Hudson at the time was the worst of my fears, cause I'm always surrounded by water, and you'll never be able to save your daughter. At the sink while you sat in your bed, I choked out all the rivulets you paved in my head. Fingers in my throat cracked dams from models that you drew, and as you took another swallow all my face broke out in blue. And the Delaware poured rivers out of my ears, and the Hudson at the time was the worst of my fears, cause I'm always surrounded by water, and you'll never be able to save your daughter. This one time I went out on the edge of a limb, and I'm nineteen years old, but I never learned to swim. So I sank like a rock till you grabbed my hand and said, "The water is shallow, you just have to fucking stand." And the Delaware poured rivers out of my ears, and the Hudson at the time was the worst of my fears, cause I'm always surrounded by water, and you'll never be able to save your daughter.

You're a drive-by shooting in a quiet place. You're a loved pet in a shallow grave. There were children playing in busy streets, but you insisted on following me. I am my sister drying out on the lawn. I am the palms of my father burned raw. I am the stones that all my grandfathers gave, but you are my mother's voice calling my name. I bury boxsprings in the back of the yard. I sleep in tunnels when the floors are too hard. I left my favorite jacket on your bedroom floor, and you couldn't help but to tear through the drawers. You dream in day-glo in the rear of the car. You climb trees just to stare at the stars. You stood in silence as it started to rain, but I still remember the taste of your name. Have I told you how it sounded when my father used to say, "Don't be afraid."