Verse by @ren.marlowe

there is a version of us that stayed your laugh survives in the hallway i am not sorry for the way i loved out loud the radio only plays the parts i remember

i still set the table for the ghost of us the sky was the color of an unopened letter i wrote your number on my palm and washed my hands you left your jacket on the chair like a promise

i am the last one at the party fixing the lights every train sounds like leaving from here i put my grief in a drawer with the batteries i am learning the names of ordinary things again

the birds do not know we broke up i wrote your number on my palm and washed my hands the floorboards keep the score there is honey in the bottom of the bad years