Synaesthesia Magazine Red | Page 16

I don't have a chip on my shoulder

till I hear your name

again and again and it's there

that same old regret those stupid what ifs

how we presumed this was it this was it this was it

now I want to throw

all the music you gave me

the CDs that you made me

the films that you showed me

the cards that you sent me

the clothes and the bracelets

the holidays and birthdays

and that last time I saw you

and I think of that time under big city lights

when we were together forever and ever