after hours

you had me 40 minutes past midnight

on a long stretch of road that I wanted to become 60 minutes past and 100 minutes past 

and forever past midnight.

but the road had you reeling out a list of old shotgun riders

and I was too new to the leather seats.

I thought you could only be naive for 16 years

but at 17, I looked hard in your eyes

and at 18, I made up your feelings for you

and naive little me

ignored the fact that

they weren't mine.

you had me 40 minutes past midnight.

4 miles from the freeway.

4 months from a heartbreak.

40 days from an 'I love you' that would set fire,

and you were thinking about old shotgun riders and tears that would follow the next day.

you had me 60 minutes past midnight.

6 hours from your next big decision

that would send old shotgun riders to the streets,

to find new cars.

you had me 100 minutes past curfew,

across the country where bagel breakfasts weren't worth the long walk anymore,

and I died at 100 minutes past midnight

but everything started over at 101.

and now we're forever past midnight,

and the midnights keep coming

and you keep coming 

but 19 is too close for 18 to be naive

and I learned a few things while riding shotgun.

you used to keep me after hours

because I wasn't worth the daytime

but I'll keep you now

because we always thrived past midnight.