Verse by @opal.static

i still set the table for the ghost of us my mother taught me how to fold a grudge i counted every streetlight home the highway hums the way you used to

you left your jacket on the chair like a promise every train sounds like leaving from here i put my grief in a drawer with the batteries the mirror learned my face by accident

the kettle screams and i let it my hands still know your kitchen there is honey in the bottom of the bad years we are all somebody else's weather

i traded my quiet for a louder kind of quiet i buried the argument in the yard we drank the cheap thing and called it a feast i counted every streetlight home

summer left its fingerprints on the glass somewhere a phone rings and nobody is worried i traded my quiet for a louder kind of quiet we were young and the light was cheap

every train sounds like leaving from here