Verse by @wilder.june

i speak to the version of you that listens my mother taught me how to fold a grudge i traded my quiet for a louder kind of quiet nothing holy ever asked for my name

the cold got into the bones of the house the cold got into the bones of the house i keep the receipts of everything i felt somewhere a phone rings and nobody is worried

i am learning the names of ordinary things again i put my grief in a drawer with the batteries the sky was the color of an unopened letter i keep the porch light on for nobody

i wore your city like a borrowed coat the church bell is just a bell on tuesdays the calendar keeps making promises the wallpaper remembers the wrong colors

winter came in through the window we never fixed i am the last one at the party fixing the lights the tape hissed where your voice should be the river takes what it is offered

we drank the cheap thing and called it a feast the bus came and i did not get on