Verse by @isla.marren

the kettle screams and i let it winter came in through the window we never fixed the mirror learned my face by accident the highway hums the way you used to

somewhere a phone rings and nobody is worried i love you in the tense that has no word the bus came and i did not get on the radio only plays the parts i remember

i wore your city like a borrowed coat i wrote your number on my palm and washed my hands summer left its fingerprints on the glass i buried the argument in the yard

i wrote your number on my palm and washed my hands you left your jacket on the chair like a promise you were a rumor i believed twice i buried the argument in the yard

the radio only plays the parts i remember