in this familiar place
words are cheap
but i’m broke,
and i’m still buying down the debt of making your acquaintance
words are cheap,
i fumble the coins of craving in my hands
i let half of them slip between my fingers.
maybe on purpose
as a statement
this time
the words i’d normally choose,
would sound worn at the edges
hopeless and hollow
and i wouldn’t mean them
and you’d know it
Tags:
creative writing
old flame
unsent letters
open letters
