[2017-12-17] shared playlist
originally written as spoken word
In the dusty cabinets at the back of my mind
I keep a library of soundtracks
Chopin nocturnes drift through the living room
Bumping up against bamboo bookshelves
Settling on the silhouettes of SAT books
A lullaby to the house.
In the dusty cabinets at the back of my mind
Some files come with geotags
Emma Stone's aunt used to live in Paris and said she jumped into the river once leapt without looking
But I tumble onto the cobblestone streets into a never ending drizzle;
Children's laughter and the jingle of leashes echo in the Meadows where the American exchange students soak in the few hours of daylight against a backdrop painted with loneliness.
In the dusty cabinets at the back of my mind
The original tracks were long destroyed
And the stories worth salvaging exist only in lo-fi remixes
So each time you added a new song to our shared playlist
I carefully layered it into my library
Threading the bass line through the fragile fabric of my memories
Sewing in the Ellie Gouldings and Adeles and very occasional Justin Biebers
On that opening guitar strum
I still feel the summer heat from all four windows rolled down even though it was just the two of us on our regular midnight CVS run for Ben & Jerry’s and hair dye
That one tile on my bathroom floor is still stained pink
On that opening guitar strum
I remember we once ate 3000 calories in a single spring night
Your pop remixes (and head bangs) on full blast as we cruised through LA
Pinky’s hot dogs and ice cream macaron sandwiches the size of my face
Spicy soondooboo and $1 tacos I ate while you pushed me on your skateboard
$1 tacos I dropped when you let me go
And by the end I was so full I couldn’t sleep
Slouched on your dorm couch
Running the day’s mix through my mind
Each time the bridge begins
I remember that night I cut my nocturnes short
Tears clouding my vision so my dad sat in the driver's seat while you missed call after call after call
We found you in the road three blocks from your house
And as I cradled your head in my heart I wished I could skip this track ahead
So that you could hear my lullabies instead
The last few songs added to our shared playlist were all mine
A once perfectly composed duet slowly unraveling over time
Through the fading chords I hear your voice loud and clear
The shortest phone call we ever had because you had to get back to your other tracks
and you couldn’t hear the jingle of leashes
or the backdrop tainted with loneliness
You didn’t want to cradle my head in your heart
or offer me your lullabies
I can’t remember the last time I listened to that playlist.