Verse by @nell.paperback

i traded my quiet for a louder kind of quiet the mirror learned my face by accident the calendar keeps making promises the highway hums the way you used to

you can hear the whole town breathing at four am my hands still know your kitchen the moon is a coin i cannot spend we are all somebody else's weather

i put my grief in a drawer with the batteries your laugh survives in the hallway the map was wrong but the walking was right i am learning the names of ordinary things again

the field went gold then went to sleep there is honey in the bottom of the bad years