maybe it's the rain pounding down on my ears

or the echoes of last summers laughter

those perfect yet empty beer cans that used to lie on your kitchen table

are a clear representation of who i've become


with no more love to give.


I'm numb from saving your attention

if only i had known those

memories made one blurred photograph

that you've kept hidden under your bed.



when i told them that after i reach those 4,000 miles i'm done

they sat in silence and nodded their heads because for the past 10 months

they too have been the empty beer cans on your kitchen table

waiting for you to throw them away.