would eventually come.
when i would hear from you.
from behind cracked words
and a still mending heart.
i guess i always thought
it would be dark out.
but it makes sense
that you spoke in the morning.
you always were more vibrant
while everyone else
stayed sleeping.
this is the way some things
never change.
and you probably already know
i am writing about you.
but i don't think you
know quite
how it ends.
I dont think i know either
