I remember days in the blue zone - when "too old" never stopped us.
dust off the boots and the old tunes that would make us wonder why we got up.
fingers tap prints on the flashbacks like the nice ladies talked of.
so we played 'til we flew from the chains of this cooped "home", but truth be told? we never saw love.
pause, then pause done.
we'd stay with the neighbors on the first floor cuz they didn't make us feel sick.
Chinese kids and a shot to the head with a needle-to-the-spleen trick,
"nǐ hǎo".
"hey" - but we were both so lost in the flux of the real shit,
cuz growing up quick's got a whole lot of stress that we'd never really deal with,
pause, then pause done.
a part of me believed that we were clean since we turned thirty.
cuz scrubbing off the dirt, afterwards, was something that we learned early.
that, and that we earn mercy - that we're "self aware" and there to please.
the moans beneath our tears have started scaring me,
so we're too old to be spitting up the blood of someone's touch until we barely breath.
pause.
then pa's gun.
I've been sitting on the dock, desperately trying to scream.
we hope I'm seen.