i don’t really like this song, but it’s stuck in my brain 

so i’ll listen out of pity

i’ll wash the dishes and i’ll bitch about work, and school

math assignments, my ever-aching back

i’ll sing to the refrain 

i’ll wind the player back

‘cause i miss things i’ve never even had

stockings and pinafores

polaroid photos and low rise jeans

and dial-up internet

i miss a utopia i have never seen with the lights on

i see her in my dreams, i dance around her skirt on the ballroom floor

don’t know how i ended up here

except on the wings of random luck

i miss a wasted youth i don’t know

but she looks pretty perfect in the magazines

with her 16th birthday convertibles

getting drunk at parties, adulthood on free trial

doing bad things

with no consequence

i miss people i haven’t seen since the second grade

i hope they’re doing good

i hope they don’t fall asleep on a spiderweb

swaying in the wind

old phobias creeping over their skin

i hope the sun shines through their windows

i hope they read books and dog-ear the pages

i hope they drink lemonade and they give gifts to strangers

like it doesn’t cost them anything

i don’t like this song

but i can’t stop listening, need to know

how it ends, need to build it a casket and lay it down to rest

need to sing all the falsetto highs

‘til my throat is sore

need to go through the five stages of grief

for something that can’t die

because it’s not even a person

and i’ll be out of here before you know it

i’ll look back on old memories with a pit in my stomach

feel my heart wrench

and i will miss the lies you told me

flannel-soft and kind, right to the finish

---

Not entirely sure what this poem means, but I like how it turned out.