young and cold
Nokyoung Xayasane

I met a boy once
who traveled across
the states of Virginia and Alabama
to get back to me.
He drank coffee by
morning light
and by the glow of the night.
He drove for hours
on end,
fourteen or fifteen hours nonstop
to get back to me.

I hid my heart in a map
and asked him to find me.
And yet, I had all but forgotten
about him.
That’s what it’s like
to be young and cold.

When he got back to me
he embraced me
like a buoy in the water,
clinging for dear life.
Those actions he performed,
they were outside of me.

I could’ve been anyone,
anything he needed
because he needed me that badly.
These lost boys
all they search for is
their manic pixie dream girl.
I’ll play the character
as long as you give me the material.
Yeah, those days
when I was young and cold.