We fought so often

that not fighting became a high-five.

Insomnia and I were always friends, but our friendship grew

the night your hand met my neck, smashing my head into the headboard of our bed.

I stayed up, night after night

tracing my finger over the dent debating how I should get you back.

– All I have is my words


Book: Second Chances, J. Saunders


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