316 miles and I feel every inch
I ask about your family
You never fucking check in on me
You said to me let’s be friends
This isn’t that
You talk about me
I haven’t been able to spit out your name in like 8 something years
You pool in my chest, I’m convinced I’m cursed
316 miles and I no longer own a single thing you’ve touched
The blue, paint-splattered sweatpants are gone, the car’s been sold
Even if I could speak your name would anything change
It just pains me too much
Bethany
