2017

I feel as though each time I pour myself its jotted on a paper you quickly fold then place in your pocket.

Ghosts of who we were, who I thought we were.

In the Never-was memories that swell.

Floral button up shirts and I swear to god I wish I never yelled out your name to turn back my way.

Time wasted like discarded yarn, I wish I could string back into a ball, collect my memories back.

Uphill with my periwinkle hair, I wish the walks would've been as alone as you made them feel.