Verse by @ivy.transistor

i left the door unlocked for a season the dog still waits by the door at six the mirror learned my face by accident my mother taught me how to fold a grudge

we drank the cheap thing and called it a feast you left your jacket on the chair like a promise i am practicing being the kind of quiet you can stand i put my grief in a drawer with the batteries

my hands still know your kitchen i put my grief in a drawer with the batteries my hands still know your kitchen the floorboards keep the score

the river takes what it is offered i am the last one at the party fixing the lights the calendar keeps making promises my mother taught me how to fold a grudge