“

The nostalgia of warm faces
and sloshing secrets
out of drunken lips
smacks our faces
rough like concrete
running like kids
through the neighborhoods
we don’t belong to.
We are strangers.
We are lost hearts.
I will hold you
at three in the morning
when he breaks your spirit
and hands you the pieces.

 

I guess this was just
a really long way
of saying I miss you
and I’m sorry everything fell apart.

 ”