Outside the frame, it’s 7 in the morning.
Outside the frame, it’s cloudy, late August.
Outside the frame and two hours prior,
Em drove us to the beach and
It was decided later on,
Recalling our lack of shoes in the bagel shop,
That we might’ve still been drunk.
Outside the frame, the beach is empty.
I’m cozy in a sweatshirt
And the sand is my pillow.
Outside the frame, the salty air
Evokes a powerful nostalgia,
But we manage to shake off
The drama from our shoulders.
Outside the frame, it had been
One hell of a summer.
Our skin is now a golden color,
And we sigh in sorrow
For the coming September,
But when we leave, we’ll always remember –
Outside the frame, the beaches stretch for miles
And coming home is the same as
See you tomorrow.
Outside the frame, two years have passed.
A hurricane took us to hell and back,
But we got through that and we’re here today.
There’s a comfort in knowing that
Home doesn’t change,
And for me, it looks like the sand and the waves,
A few good friends
Smiling back inside the frame.