Posted in Creative Writing

Fifteen

We turned on the radio at 3 a.m
to drown out the silence.
The summer heat would filter through
our open window on those restless nights,
on those sleepless summer nights
we sat on the windowsill
sifting through my loneliness
and your heartbreak
the same way we’d sift through our coins,
gathering the silver to buy midnight snacks.
No one told us then we were worth more
than silver and gold
and fifteen tasted so bitter-sweet…
I wouldn’t wish it back
but I’d wish us back to that windowsill
if it meant things would stay the same between us.


[missing an old friend tonight]

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