Dishonest photographs
Perfect angles
Dimming lights
Poor girl
I bathe beneath wasted words
Your liquid courage
My sober nerves
So many places I'm longing to see / be
All adequate homes I'm stuck between
The childhood streets
The holiday roads
The city that I live
Orchids across your windowsill
In lines as straight as the fact that you could never care about the way I feel
And it'll stay that way until I leave
But for now there are