Monuments from Park Jefferson by Park Jefferson

I thought I'd write to you and let you know that I'm still dramatic and sixteen. I thought I'd call you and tell you that I'm still miserable without you. I thought I could find you at the bottom of a plastic cup, but like we both knew, nothing ever helps the swelling inside our chests. There's nothing left. Now we visit our love like a long, lost monument; forever forgotten.

Part of me won't finish this story.
I'm holding on but you won't hold on for me.
Face down, complacent eyes.
Finding a place to die.

I'm not who I was, and I think I'm proud of that. But, in a few more months, will I still say the same thing? When I'm at my worst, you seem to be at your best. And I can't put this into words, but I'm so glad you never wrote back.

• 90s
• Punk
• indie
• Michigan