There’s this hole in the shape of your hand
Near my collarbone-
Makes me lose my voice now, some days.

Makes the connection from my head to my hands
A little shaky now, some days.

We broke every bottle in this place.
We scribbled on all of the walls in that bathroom,
Hearts and other nonsense;
It never amounts to anything, anyways.

There’s this gap between my back and
your fingernails-
Makes me acknowledge my rib cage.

Makes my heart shake instead of beat
now, some days.