Prena Poetry

i don’t remember you holding me. you said your parents were solving a family feud out of town. we were smoking on your bedroom’s balcony— congested among the bicycle parts and leftover of the science project from last summer.

we were listening to Saturday Nights, it used to be your favorite song back then. all the dreams we kept in that dashboard of your light gray Silverado, you were 17 and almost in love. i wonder till this day why i never told you i liked your solemnly dark hair. and the shoes your father got you that was nearly worn out, you still wore them saying wishing only made things worse.

my opal eyeshadow smeared
over your olive green sweater the next morning, we had black coffee for breakfast cause there was no milk on the fridge. and then i don’t remember hugging you, i only remember waving my hand out of a bus heading to the airport and you still had my opal eyeshadow on your sweater.

you are 21 now, i wonder if you ever think of me when you drive your brother’s benz to a bar or to that hill up your college dorm.

i spray yardley london on mornings and drink coffee out of plastic mugs. perphaps, fix my bronze eyeshadow in a club bathroom with my hair tied up in an olive green rubber band that i never lost. i think your hair must be blue, you always said you wanted a blue hair and a tattoo on your neck—living the life your parents don’t know about.

and deep in your heart, all you want is love, i know but you never felt good enough.
we got wrapped up in all the other plans of life; typing down cv and pulling up GPAs just to lie down on a mattress at 4am and feel lonely.

but this shouldn’t be the way the story ends.


[ wrote this so long ago when the remake of Khalid’s saturday nights with kane brown was released :*) the entire piece is based on the song. still love it tho ]