T

i'm in my car in an empty parking lot.

and im thinking about when we would sit in your old chevy

and fog up the windows running our mouths

about anything and everything.

you were one of the people who could understand

my level of existentialism.

one thing about us is i could say the worst

of my thoughts and you wouldn't bat an eye.

we knew nothing then. we were so young.

naive to a lot of things that were outside of

our little bubble.

there was always a gaping hole in my chest

that you'd try to fill.

there was always an empty feeling hanging

in between us.

i wonder if you're still blaming your mother

for all of your problems.

i wonder where you are now, if you're happy.

you didnt deserve the heaviness you always carried around with you.

i dont wish things ended differently.

i think the story of us unfolded how it was supposed to.

i don't miss you and i rarely think about you,

but i hope youre making it.