Everything happens on Price Drive
Here, reality and dream collide in vibrant hues of pink and blue while I force my eyelids awake to see the sunrise
The sky and ground will probably never blend together, but god I think the streetlights are like stars sometimes

Price Drive has seen it all
The 1^st grade fridge poems buried under business cards and domestic howls that keep children awake at night
It saw the backyard fantasies of pirates in search of treasure buried deep beneath the mulch or princesses singing from their playground empires
It saw the New Years fireworks and how our youthful eyes lost ourselves in them, brilliant lights shimmering on with a promise of tomorrow
It saw the zoo trips after the Lion King premiere and dad kiss mom on the cheek with the vitality of bursts of light

Price Drive has seen it all
The middle school narrative about acceptance written the fall after our dogs died and the domestic howls haunting a restless sleep
It saw the soccer mom daydream of scrubbing off grass-stained shirts and the worn out sneaker taint that made me feel like I was winning the matches
It saw fireworks on the 4^th of July, but then again I saw them too, dimmer this time because I saw them from a windowpane while a drunk uncle Johnny flung chairs outside
It saw the extra money we had leftover since no one ever left the house and dad kiss mom with the dimness of fading light or with the flinging of a chair… most nights I can’t remember which

Price Drive has seen it all
The high school suspension letter for selling pills that promised happiness and the peaceful Benadryl daydreams that blocked out some inner domestic howl
It saw coffee-spilled breaths chanting pop hymns on morning commutes and lipstick smudges on first kissed necks as if the taints kept us alive
It saw Halloween flashing lights behind hidden eyes, and we danced all through the night because for one day we were what we wanted
It saw dad’s trips to AA meetings when he no longer kissed mom because she went on a trip to a different state

Price Drive has seen it all
The signed lease which kept me tied this suburban nightmare, because after all domestic howls were better than wild ones
It saw cul-de-sacs hugging magazine cut-out houses, and it saw me stay inside all winter because I didn’t want to be like uncle Johnny
It saw Christmas lights strung up everywhere except for where they should’ve been because no tree-lights could illuminate the fog inside of me
It saw family trips back to this place, begging me to find a way out of the house but I just wanted to be boxed in the basement with my artificial tree

Price Drive has seen it all
It saw the suicide note buried under my torn up lease and the domestic howls which made me aim a gun to my head
It saw the backyard fantasies of pirates in search of treasure finding corpses under the mulch and princesses jumping out of their towers
It saw the New Year’s fireworks I didn’t get to see because I mainly heard the noise; but I’m sure the lights were as bright as this neon exit sign handing me the bullets
It saw the trip everyone makes, stuck between choosing the ledge or the ground, but I think I saw it best from the ambulance… with my eyes closed