I need to stop writing poetry in ink
Because I am pretty damn far from perfect
And I hear that the little pills erasers leave behind
Are easier to throw away than sleeping pill stashes

It's frowned upon that I still need to count my fingers
For simple sums
But I think the real shame is the way you erased my chalk words
Off the walls when I wasn't looking

The only truly impermanent things are names, I think
Even though we wished they were the most permanent of all
And I signed every ink letter in pencil,
In case I need to go back and change it someday
You thought that was funny
'Quirky', you said

I bet it's easy to breathe when your name's already changed
And your identity has been folded neatly into an envelope that's been licked and shut
I guess it seemed like I was pretty dumb

Thread my headphones straight through my empty head, I don't mind
When I open my mouth at least I'll be sure only pretty things will come out
There will be a lot more arpeggios
And considerably less apologies


But damn, I really need to stop writing poems in ink.