Dry thunder and
keys in the door
distant noises
nothing more

Guitar strings and
a bari sax horn
bittersweet memory
nothing more

A muffled landline and
creaky hardwood floors
reckless mistakes
nothing more

Four or five winds
and a sloppy drumcore
a losing band
nothing more

The yelling lectures
and the way he spat the word wh*re
whispered regrets
nothing more

Nothing more than the poetry I
that I am made of
Nothing more than the hole
inside of my chest
Nothing more than my reason
for staying alive
Nothing more than the friends
who've helped me survive

Nothing more than the hurt
I've been trying to hide