Verse by @ren.marlowe

i keep the porch light on for nobody the floorboards keep the score i speak to the version of you that listens i am the last one at the party fixing the lights

we drank the cheap thing and called it a feast you were a rumor i believed twice my hands still know your kitchen winter came in through the window we never fixed

the birds do not know we broke up the birds do not know we broke up summer left its fingerprints on the glass the tape hissed where your voice should be

nothing holy ever asked for my name your laugh survives in the hallway i buried the argument in the yard i wrote your number on my palm and washed my hands

i counted every streetlight home my mother taught me how to fold a grudge the church bell is just a bell on tuesdays the sea does not remember any of our names

the church bell is just a bell on tuesdays you can hear the whole town breathing at four am i wrote your number on my palm and washed my hands