Photographs

Looking back at the photographs of me
Stare into eyes I used to see with
They are glowing warm
With memories that stick like syrup
This one’s from when I was just a boy
Too young to dream or be employed
Bliss swept my countenance
As I was climbing up the playhouse
I recall the feeling
But don’t recall its name
I can see me looking right back at me
Through the one-way glass of a photograph
And all of the things I thought
And all of the fights I fought
Are ghosts inside this frame
And so I turn the page
Here I am breaking into teens
My look is confident and green
My hair was brown, but like Cobain’s
And I was scared and hungry
For feeling anything at all
The flight that comes before the fall
The taste that grows inside your mouth
After you’ve kissed a treasure
There is nothing like the first time
If there is I’ve never seen it
I can see me looking right back at me
Through the one-way glass of a photograph
And all of the things I thought
And all of the fights I fought
Are ghosts inside this frame
And so I turn the page