Verse by @marlow.quinn

the wallpaper remembers the wrong colors i am practicing being the kind of quiet you can stand nothing holy ever asked for my name i saved the last cigarette for a braver night

every train sounds like leaving from here the tape hissed where your voice should be i am practicing being the kind of quiet you can stand i put my grief in a drawer with the batteries

your laugh survives in the hallway there is honey in the bottom of the bad years nothing holy ever asked for my name the floorboards keep the score

i keep the receipts of everything i felt i saved the last cigarette for a braver night you were a rumor i believed twice there is a version of us that stayed

the dog still waits by the door at six the highway hums the way you used to i am learning to be a room with the curtains open i counted every streetlight home

the sky was the color of an unopened letter i am not sorry for the way i loved out loud i traded my quiet for a louder kind of quiet