"

I wrote your name on all
my folders & drew your

silhouette like a bruise on the back
of my hand O you are an arrow

in my wistful heart you are a
radio that keeps me up each

night in bed but once upon
a time you were a girl with

wings & you let me trace the
fissures in your spine O why

can’t we go back to the time
when you were a cloverfield

& I was a meadowlark in the
engine of your delicate teeth.

"

—NATE SLAWSON, from MIRANDA, OR AN ABRIDGED HISTORY OF THE TENTH GRADE

you are an arrow you are a radio once upon a time you were a girl with wings

me, I’m a meadowlark, I guess, I used up all of my good metaphors with you, this is what tenth grade love does to me, you eat me up

(Source: ahuntersheart)