My Shortest Summer

This night is the beginning of the end
of my shortest summer
I wanted to spend forever
numbing my feet in the river
sneaking out by walking through the front door
affirming Hal Sparks' hotness
harmonizing to Dashboard
and recording it all for posterity in fifty livejournal entries
with the Ataris as my current music
and my mood, nostalgic
a tiny green star with a thought bubble
we fall asleep together over the telephone wires
I wake up with my phone under my pillow
and dead batteries
this night is the beginning of the end
as I pack away my books
and all my feelings for you
to ship ahead to Chicago
while I'm losing myself in Southern California
I left so early, will you even miss me?