Smells like the smoke coming from the 24-hour 711 next to the fright train
like the walk home from the part time job past the house he used to live in
like the cookies we made but never ate
like guilt slipping from cover
like I almost let it show
Sounds like daddy's cancer
like driving on the freeway with no music
like not speaking
like I don't know how to
like every ride home from the hospital
like the fireworks we lit a few months back in our front yard
like the mistakes I called choices
Feels like the first boy I let have me vulnerable
like the meeting of hand to face
like shaking shoulders into apology
like the forgiveness crawling from his lips
like my tongue unfurling with remorse coming too easy
like my voice echoing I'm sorry
like it is something I will always be
Tastes like swallowing a pill backwards
like Fireball mixed with the thick of cough syrup
like holding back a ****** nose
like vicodin dust between broken teeth
like waiting for another winter
Looks like leaving the front door open for the air to come in
like the snow building a cast around our insecurities
like it's never been this cold before
like this Chicago is a stranger we never loved
like the ****** he tried just once
like how once can be enough to **** us
like all the questions we never got answered
like when will the branches stop cracking?
what makes a flame keep growing?
and why are these memories still
breathing?