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Description
Hey, hey, hey, hey.

Remember when we used to be friends?
(All of us.)
and it was just us
and we didn't walk off and leave anyone
and I didn't break down in class
and have to leave or risk being seen
          (for once in my life?)

No, wait-
the memory's a funny thing, yes?
      stupid thing changes depending on my mood.

      Why am I talking about back then as though it were better?
           because it was (not)
            and people never looked at me then
            so much that I'd pick one
                and stare
              until they noticed and couldn't look away

ice eyes aren't always such a bad thing
    (but they make it hard to look people in the face.

           -still, at least they'll never know me then
           and thank God for that.)

       I thought we were trying to be understood, here?
         Not beautifully isolated
                       (and we're avoiding the fact
                          that we used to cry every night
                            instead of just once a week-
                              -so, haha, guess you couldn't keep a hold of me forever
                               so maybe I can stop referring to my self in the plural now?)

                (Not so fast, there
               we're going to be at war for half a goddamn century.
                     or did you forget?
                    I know how you love to forget things.)

                        (Not any more.
                             plan's changed.
                            and
                       I don't communicate by telegraph anymore.)

it doesn't help to know that
    the only thing 6 and 13.7 have in common
    is that if you multiply them both by two
    they will both then be divisible by two

            because that's cheating.

And shut it,
brother.
I write my own poetry
(Yes, but not well, he said snarkily)

Sometimes I feel like there are too many thoughts in this one head.
As someone else's father would have said,
         'Some fucking thing's gotta give.'

So things really weren't easier.
Even though back then
I thought I knew exactly who my friends were

Description
Hey, hey, hey, hey.

Remember when we used to be friends?
(All of us.)
and it was just us
and we didn't walk off and leave anyone
and I didn't break down in class
and have to leave or risk being seen
          (for once in my life?)

No, wait-
the memory's a funny thing, yes?
      stupid thing changes depending on my mood.

      Why am I talking about back then as though it were better?
           because it was (not)
            and people never looked at me then
            so much that I'd pick one
                and stare
              until they noticed and couldn't look away

ice eyes aren't always such a bad thing
    (but they make it hard to look people in the face.

           -still, at least they'll never know me then
           and thank God for that.)

       I thought we were trying to be understood, here?
         Not beautifully isolated
                       (and we're avoiding the fact
                          that we used to cry every night
                            instead of just once a week-
                              -so, haha, guess you couldn't keep a hold of me forever
                               so maybe I can stop referring to my self in the plural now?)

                (Not so fast, there
               we're going to be at war for half a goddamn century.
                     or did you forget?
                    I know how you love to forget things.)

                        (Not any more.
                             plan's changed.
                            and
                       I don't communicate by telegraph anymore.)

it doesn't help to know that
    the only thing 6 and 13.7 have in common
    is that if you multiply them both by two
    they will both then be divisible by two

            because that's cheating.

And shut it,
brother.
I write my own poetry
(Yes, but not well, he said snarkily)

Sometimes I feel like there are too many thoughts in this one head.
As someone else's father would have said,
         'Some fucking thing's gotta give.'

So things really weren't easier.
Even though back then
I thought I knew exactly who my friends were