I hardly ever think of you
unless our song comes up on shuffle
or I get nostalgic for home.
You were my home for so long.
We’re so different
and yet we’ve always been
shy children together.
The greatest common factor
of my past relationships.
I’d like to sit outside in your driveway
on a warm evening
like old times.
Playing silly games
and laughing until we’re blushing.
But you don’t live there anymore.
I don’t live there anymore.
When did we stop being each other’s?
Was it when we moved away
and stopped calling our hometown home?
Or was it when I acted like I was better than you
and you acted like I was too good for you?
I miss the home we created together
and the times without regrets between us.