I Close My Eyes (...)

Walk down the street at this time in the summer gloaming, you might see me through the window.
Sitting up in bed, maybe listening to More Than a Feeling, trying not to dream what-was and youth-elation.
If I fall asleep, how can I live when the past has burrowed inside the present?
Someone keep me awake.

Only I and the sender of a card for my 18th birthday know why it's never been thrown out.