Verse by @tess.nakamura

the tape hissed where your voice should be winter came in through the window we never fixed i am practicing being the kind of quiet you can stand there is a version of us that stayed

i speak to the version of you that listens i keep the porch light on for nobody the bus came and i did not get on i am not sorry for the way i loved out loud

the wallpaper remembers the wrong colors the church bell is just a bell on tuesdays my mother taught me how to fold a grudge i am the last one at the party fixing the lights

the tape hissed where your voice should be we drank the cheap thing and called it a feast you never asked and i never stopped answering there is honey in the bottom of the bad years

the sea does not remember any of our names the lemon tree outlived the marriage i saved the last cigarette for a braver night i keep the receipts of everything i felt

the bus came and i did not get on you left your jacket on the chair like a promise i keep the porch light on for nobody