Written in ink,
you can't erase what you wrote.
But you could cross it out, and you did.

We're flourishing in the silence.
When I know what was meant with a look,
Is it better unsaid?
Are we better unsaid?

Driving home the long way
just to avoid conversation.
Singing along with your
favourite songs,
I haven't got a voice left to speak.

Your number got washed
off the back of my hand.
I'm tracing over it again.
Forgotten numbers and
forgotten faces
you made me forget.