I read your journal posts bc I like to know you’re okay 

Your face is still familiar with my thoughts, they have conversations without me

and I tell myself I’m just lonely but if you were here you’d be mine because you owe me

I never wanted to call things off but I was feeling like you didn’t want to put in the work 

and when there’s distance we miss shit, it’s double the effort- half the pay

I was worn out holding up both my end and yours 

Eight months late you hit me up like “I know what I did now”

Like all that time you were thinking on it

And I wish that made it better, that we could go back to how it was 

But all it did was infect me with ‘I wish’ and ‘I miss’

You should have kept it to yourself

Atlanta feeling like a home I never lived in

I hope you still have my sweatshirt and that you wear it like a secret

I don’t want it back just like the memories we share, I hope you keep it

If you ever doubt that I loved you or that I don’t now listen to that song I wrote you, plus you know that I’m honest

Maybe years from now we’ll both come back around

Because I’m still sitting here thinking about your freckles and that night

When you’re talking about someone else’s arms

So every once in a while I hope when you’re kissing him you think of me

That I pop into your mind, like you do mine, at the wrong times and on the wrong nights