Verse by @sunny.delacroix

the floorboards keep the score i speak to the version of you that listens i counted every streetlight home the sky was the color of an unopened letter

the calendar keeps making promises we made a home out of almost the tape hissed where your voice should be i wrote your number on my palm and washed my hands

the dog still waits by the door at six the cold got into the bones of the house the bus came and i did not get on i put my grief in a drawer with the batteries

the wallpaper remembers the wrong colors i love you in the tense that has no word there is a version of us that stayed the birds do not know we broke up

the mirror learned my face by accident i counted every streetlight home the highway hums the way you used to