Even Manic-Depressives Fall In Love

I remember going into her room and seeing pot leaf posters adorning the walls and Modest Mouse was playing on the radio as she took me into her arms planting a kiss on my lips telling me that I'll never frown again and I took a few hits from a bowl before burying my head in her heart listening to her hum the sound of rain and peaches and everything at that moment was perfect but when I opened my eyes she was gone.

Glory Days

Listening to Springsteen's song, I can't help but remember the few I've had. I may not be able to speak of athletics or accomplishments. Those are scarce as civilization in the bowels of a forgotten jungle. However, I can mention some good times and the girls that got away. I remember drinking until the sun awoke from it's hibernation while grinning and purging into the wind. I'd smoke until my throat turned into a desert of tar and euphoria. The women have come and gone. I recall the girl from across the tracks stealing my innocence on a hot summer night. The woman from Colorado and I sitting on the bleachers on a winter day just embracing and chatting, thankful to be with each other. Those things are all in the past, but they won't be the last glory days I have. There will be plenty more. And they will pass me by like the wink in a young girl's eye.