On tuesdays, 

We went to the movies.

And I wouldn't trade a dime, 

To have worked those nights, 

Instead of eating popcorn. 

In June, 

We went to the beach. 

And the heat of the sand, 

Couldn't compare to all the secrets, 

We shared with one another. 

On Fridays,

We smoked cigarettes. 

And even though Salmonella threatened us, 

We ate raw cookie dough, 

One spoonful at a time. 

In July,

We stared up at the sky.

And even though the grass bit, 

It couldn't drive me away, 

From the loud memory.

On Saturdays, 

We had hangovers.

And we still got up to go to work,

Because our heads were punding, 

But our hearts were happy. 

In August, 

We gave eachother our hugs. 

And even though I helped them pack,

I knew that night, 

They would be gone. 

This summer,

I said hello to a boy. 

But that greeting was not nearly as sweet, 

As all the goodbyes, 

I was forced to utter.