i think i owe you this. listening to me sing about everyone i’ve come across and lost. and you are the constant among all my nonsense with my awful choice of words
i will drive you home. listening to you drunk and cute, heart on your sleeve and it barely coming true. and i am your constant among all your nonsense with your awful choice in boys.
i speak in ninth grade form, cord under the door powers out, we wait out the storm and i am floored but you were such elegance, in your city of progress but an awful absence.