I listened to both the albums by that one

band you told me about when you were fifteen.

Each word was an anthem, a prayer to be worshiped.

Not to be questioned.

I believed every single one of them.

 

But here I am: 

Sleeping without the covers on and the window ajar

so I can hear the faint, monotonous gas station melodies

Filling a silence that I cannot shake alone. 

 

Even though the cars

look like roller skates with blurry lights rushing past me, I 

Blink

Hoping to unearth a clear image 

Hoping to explain all those forgotten nights. 

 

I refuse to call it bad luck.

I refuse to call it bad timing. 

I am present now, and I won’t forget the nights you left me. 

The nights I had to leave you.

All the times I’ve been ashamed because you 

Led me to believe that it wasn’t a choice. 

That it wasn’t your fault.

But it wasn’t mine. 

 

I’m still addicted to that slow drip of dopamine.

Like sucking from the bud of a poison, 

It hurt, but I found myself weak,

Unable to walk away.