When We Go to Brandon's House

When we go to Brandon's house
We get handed a bag of chips
And a pickle
And nobody says anything
About either one
Or asks if we've had dinner
Or if we're ruining our appetite
Or anything
And it's pretty awesome
We have to admit

When we go to Brandon's house
There are bonfires
And sing-a-longs
And things happen under blankets
That make us wonder
What we've been missing
Trapped under phrases like--

'You're not ready'

And

'When you grow up'

We're grown
We're ready
We're eager
We're sixteen on a Saturday night
With no church tomorrow
Because we said we'd go to Brandon's church
But Brandon's church
Is a lake
And a hammock
And sticks with s'more residue on them

When we go to Brandon's house
We're given cigars
And guitars
And we're talked to
Like we know
What we're talking about

We don't meet Brandon's father or mother
But he has an older brother
Who passes us a bottle of beer
And an older sister
Who gives us our first kiss

We meet his best friends
And more of his best friends
And we've met Brandon
But we can't find him now

When we go to Brandon's house
We go alone
But we leave in groups
With new numbers in our phones
New friendships
New relationships
New information that we haven't processed yet

When we go to Brandon's house
We go as kids

But we come home as something else

Our parents look at us
Ask us how Brandon's house was
And we say fine
Still smelling
Like burning logs
And sweat
And confidence
And confusion

And they want to say something
To help us
But they don't know
What kind of help it is
We need

And so they hug us
And tell us
They're happy
We're home

And we are too

We're happy we went
But we're not sure when we'll be ready
To go back again