The sunrise hits the charcoaled remains of the fireplace; empty bottles rest with the silent air that fills their space. Bored girls and urban myths, wet grass and bottle caps, drunk boys with bloody fists, bed hair and photographs. I wake up, grab a towel and wipe the dirt from my face. Chaotic and lifeless, the backyard hums to the tune of last night's fervor. Bruised lips and a black eye; smeared lipstick and a heavy sigh. I know that you're bored, you've been watching the clock for the whole night. And, my mouth tastes of hope from the secrets I told you while we sat behind the shed and lost a whole night by ourselves.