i used to paint the town red with the blood from my mouth
i could count the phases of the moon from the crescents caused by the digging of my nails into my hands
it was easier that way

late night side streets accompanied by no one but a playlist and a flashlight
i ran while crossing the road to get to anywhere
sometimes i wonder if the street light near the cemetery still flickers
and if i have any claim to the gravel behind the post office
does your mom ever tell you that i drive by your house?
when i finally woke up beside the lake i didn’t know it would feel like nothing