Verse by @indigo.varn

the birds do not know we broke up you never asked and i never stopped answering the river takes what it is offered i wrote your number on my palm and washed my hands

i counted every streetlight home i am practicing being the kind of quiet you can stand you never asked and i never stopped answering i keep the porch light on for nobody

i am learning to be a room with the curtains open i wrote your number on my palm and washed my hands the tape hissed where your voice should be i put my grief in a drawer with the batteries

the dog still waits by the door at six the floorboards keep the score i am practicing being the kind of quiet you can stand