the way the light shined through the windshield that night.
it awoke something in me. that unusual, beautiful sight.
i'd never known a girl that made my hands shake.
and then take mine in hers and hold them to make it better.

i like to think maybe it was too much coffee.
maybe i got too high, too drunk. i couldn't see.
but that's just a smaller lie that i tell myself.
it's true when they say "every little bit helps."
in reality though, it was unreal. insane bliss.
but i loved her to maybe too many bits.

i wrote something in a random bar bathroom.
i'd never done that before and it felt good.
it said something vague like "i wish i could make this better."
or stupid like "she blocked me, so now i'm sending her this letter."
whatever it was, it probably isn't there anymore, no.
but i hope it seeped into the walls.