Untitled

October 2016

I've got memories filed, archived, put away

Words waiting to be said in your voice

To be prodded and pressed, like the dull ache

Of a bruise

My bruise

My blunt feeling

My pain that aches

It belongs to me

And for some reason

The only part of Medway that feels like it was left to me

Is the gas station placed between campus and Chatham