Stained tea kettle howled
almost as loud as we did
one cool November night
leaving us trapped between
boredom and curiosity.
Stale bread and ripped jeans
turning us into something more
then five strangers with too much time
and too little money in our hands.
It didn't matter how many scars covered our wrists
because for a moment they didn't exist
through our bloodshot eyes.
Clarity and time became dim
as lights faded along with my mind
because soon I would find
my hands inside yours without a word
and slowly things seemed to fall apart
as months of wary burdened our hearts
because we couldn't quite forget the night
we turned from strangers to lovers
the questions never answered seemed to linger
that led us to crumble
as quickly as the brownie between my fingers.