This is a Love Song
For me, for my friends, for my sister, for the world
I remind myself of apples.
And summer rain on my window.
And when you shuffle your playlist
And that song comes on that you loved in year eight
And you remember all of the rubbish lyrics that you thought were inspired.
And blackcurrant squash.
And a medium-hair-day turned into a good one.
They remind me of happy days.
Of lemonade that’s so sugary it makes your nose buzz.
They remind me of a road trip, even though we’ve never been on one.
And oranges, but not the kind that smell rubbish and fall apart easily.
They remind me of songs in a major key,
And really good bridges of happy songs that we’ll hate in a year.
She reminds me of fun.
Of the kind of laughing when you can’t breathe after a while.
She reminds me of painting my nails purple before messing up,
And painting my whole hand for the sake of it.
She reminds me of sitting on a wall drinking from the same bottle when it’s dark and the light makes everything look black and white if you concentrate hard enough.
And sharp corners on tables that you remember how to move round.
She reminds me of laughing and crying until I don’t know what I’m feeling anymore.
And being scandalous to shock people, but a bit for ourselves, too.
You remind me of being totally unsure.
The time when I forgot where I was
Even though I was three minutes from home.
When you pet a dog and the owner tells you that he hates strangers
As the dog cuddles up around your legs.
You remind me of crying in a bathroom.
You remind me of good music,
But the kind when you can feel the bass in your heart.
The kind that turns you inside out.