I’m still choking on the ashes of your disappointment,
And I’m still reenacting scenes from the grave,
And I wish I could take a step into your mind
To fathom what firing synapses are urging you to consider

What do you think about on late nights?
Do you think about airports and silent drives?
Do you think about beautiful lakes and perfect heartache?

I’ve been digging graves for every single “I love you”
And I’m running out of eulogies


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