I used to spend my Friday nights in a movie theater with you.
I used to spend my Saturdays in a park with you
or on the couch with you.
Since you have been gone I've been spending my Fridays drunk
at a house party until 3am.
I wake up in another's house on Saturday morning.
I often ask myself if I miss the taste of movie theater popcorn
or the crisp leaves on the ground on a Saturday morning with you.
Then I have to remind myself that the popcorn started to taste like regret
and the leaves on the ground were only just dead.
And I can't possibly miss you.