i’d rather spend these nights driving than try to catch up to you
i’m almost out of gas anyways
i should have held on a little tighter,
called you a few less times,
moved 212 miles away from home,
brushed myself off and got up from the bathroom floor,
stopped ghosting my therapists,
taken my meds with any form of regularity
sunday nights are for figuring out that voicemails from the front seat of your car can only last so long before the static cuts in and cuts it off too short