Verse by @tess.nakamura

the highway hums the way you used to there is honey in the bottom of the bad years my mother taught me how to fold a grudge i speak to the version of you that listens

the birds do not know we broke up we drank the cheap thing and called it a feast we were young and the light was cheap the floorboards keep the score

i put the whole year in one suitcase you never asked and i never stopped answering i keep the porch light on for nobody you left your jacket on the chair like a promise

i am not sorry for the way i loved out loud the radio only plays the parts i remember the cold got into the bones of the house the dog still waits by the door at six

the radio only plays the parts i remember every train sounds like leaving from here the wallpaper remembers the wrong colors the mirror learned my face by accident

nothing holy ever asked for my name the highway hums the way you used to