You only dream of pizza, I hear

you only dream of pizza, I hear–
to protect your instrument.
Did you light up after-awards
in the back with the boys
where the smoke snarls and whips the lungs,
but you get high on pixie sticks,
alone, but you’d think otherwise walking through the checkout
can’t drink milk or live at home
wanting to atone, but can’t

I’m the last one up these nights
in this college apartment–
in this small town,
lost in thoughts of you–
lost in the world of stardom
and I’m starting to get
scared–you’ll never return
except by suited crying men.