maybe if i yell loud enough
across fuzzy love songs after my last shift
you'll turn your head like
the way you look at her in literature

and, maybe i let my eyes linger too long on your
blue hoodie, the blonde bits at the end of your hair,
when you walk me to class on tuesdays
i've done this to myself before and ill do it again

maybe ill drown myself in the number seven till
i can finally shut the **** up
and can look at its lines without hearing your voice