phoebe bridgers

By Samantha Simon

12th grade

phoebe bridgers

The thought of growing old with you makes me feel sick.

Imagining your sagging skin and graying hair and the medications you might take with orange juice at the breakfast table i feel a faraway angel die 

Milk in your cereal bowl and starting your car and fitting me into your briefcase excuse me 

i think i’ll be ill

you should walk every step of the city without me but keep me in your locket

oh! but when you return from your high-rise day i’ll be waiting by the window playing my tiny violin, blushing like me and kissing you welcome like someone else

Maybe we can medicate with the brownies I baked today, darling! 

Maybe I’ll die a violent nightmare death one morning while you’re gone so I never have to count your arthritic milligrams and heartbeats.

O that these things could start without my writing preemptive divorce vows!

i know this to be true:

some men will cower

some men will not love you and they are the smart ones

but you are so beautiful today under these ugly lights & i want you forever