My name is John David
yours is Noel, I was 12 and you were eleven
your dad loosened his grip from my neck
and i fell

wake up to concerned faces and blood on my arms
"are you alright? can you repeat that last line?"
he knows his name and address, so he seems fine.

you bolted through your front door and unto the grass
like a wild tiger whose cage was just unlatched

"who shot off the gun?"
"who shot off the gun?"

we didnt, that was the thud of the connecting concrete to my head

next thing you know it's off to the hospital
and i'm comatose

the swelling on my brain was suffocation at best.

these couple of days that past will probably be my very best rest.

in this lifetime

cause now all i remember is waking up
to hearing your sobbing from down the hall
and mentioning something about heaven and hell
then i felt the warm urine run down my leg
atleast i was alive, atleast im awake
and the look on your eyes i cant forget
like seeing the dead rise again
and that night was my first time praying to god
and i dont regret that repent
and til this day im still the same sin

oh how we almost shared that first kiss in the july of summer sun