Verse by @june.parade

i speak to the version of you that listens i put the whole year in one suitcase i am practicing being the kind of quiet you can stand winter came in through the window we never fixed

my mother taught me how to fold a grudge the map was wrong but the walking was right the floorboards keep the score somewhere a phone rings and nobody is worried

you can hear the whole town breathing at four am the radio only plays the parts i remember my mother taught me how to fold a grudge the moon is a coin i cannot spend

the tape hissed where your voice should be the church bell is just a bell on tuesdays