Fallout

We find ourselves sprinting
back to bluejeans and lies,
wrestling in mud piles
with rock music blowing holes
through impatient eardrums.

Drop down to a time
of pink glitter eyeshadow,
when you caked on mascara
to hide the color of your eyes.

With a newfound puppy
you hide beneath blanket tents
from the storm burning outside,
protecting yourself from nothing--
even you can't stand to be alone.