Nothing is the same
yet other things never changed,
I’m still the moth drawn to your flame
waiting for the inevitable burn that will come again.
It’s just like I’m back at 18
crying on the floor in the bathroom at my parent’s house because you haven't respond to the text I sent
10,
      23,
                47 minutes ago.
The songs we used to scream sing with the window down in that old truck
now echo through my headphones louder than the crickets were the night we lied in the field
watching the moon rise over the mountain tops.
I’m not your Juliet,
that isn’t something new for you to know
I can’t keep biting my tongue
when you’re only my midnight Romeo.
I’m worth more than secret, late night randevus
and early mornings waking up in an empty bed.
I don’t like being sober,
but I’m tired of you leaving me hungover.
You know I would follow you
chasing every sun set as it turns orange and pink from a fading blue,
but I’m tired of only being good enough
for late night hotel room I love yous.