you remind me of a house in the woods
where sun shines onto the concrete stoop
and neighbor kids laugh as we light up in your room
you remind me of that candle smell
laundry detergent, other things i cannot place
running from wasps with that look on your face
do you remember the winter that read like a novel?
it was just four weeks long when i count it out
whiskey slurped over the sink and my poor cotton mouth
do you remember when i drove her home?
carving ice off the sand smothered road
i make that same drive to work
but something's not working here now
cause i kept my mouth shut
when the substance got too thick to swallow
you remind me of who i was then:
but i learned to fill myself in.
i painted the walls
i ran three miles a day
i drank your voice down
and still couldn't escape
throwing rocks at your windows
i guess i'm the foolish one now
maybe i'll pick my battles much better the next time around