i can hear you in the whistle of the leaves
in the fraying edge of sleeves, in my cold and bloody knees
i can hear you

i can taste the lies between your smile,
when cast your head back, that way that you laugh
when i’m around

i’ll write out your name into the condensation,
pretend you’re just a figment of my imagination,
it’s easier that way, easier to let you just fade
and every time i turn around,
the image of you remains

should’ve known from get-go
when you opened your mouth...