Part of me thinks we will look back on this and laugh
It seems like one of those instances
The way a bad experience becomes a fond memory
Years after the rust has thickened into scabs
Yes there will be a scar
Its shape will be determined by letters piled in boxes
Neither of us are fond of digging up ghosts
So I imagine there will be a zigzag line just left to the center of our chests
Part of me thinks that we will avoid meeting til we die
I will erase your name from the phonebook every year
And you will make it a point to forget my phone number
We will be well versed in pretending not to see
No we will not have stretch marks
Accommodating each other was not an option
I will be a good song you didn’t know the name to
You will be the best movie I only saw the credits to
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saintpeace posted this
