It was behind the bleachers
At a high school football game
We were young then.
15, Not old enough to know
The torment and pain we would face
It was November.
The Night's cold stabbed at our collarbones
Vapour composed our temporary breath
Our eyes met in unrealised damnation.
I'd like you to realise that damnation right now
I still smell your smile on my molars.
Tomorrow morning you won't be on my mind.
But you'll be thought of when I sleep tonight
And that's a secret you'll never know
~I keep moving.
Love,
Johanssen.
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