Tuesday in the dark, you text “u up?” like clockwork,
I crawl out my skin, perfume named after hurt.
Ride the 405 with your girl’s ghost in my seat,
her lip gloss on your collar—tastes bittersweet.
Friday, you’re scripture, Sunday, you’re gone,
I remix your verses ‘til the dawn.
Ain’t mine, never was, but I keep the key,
weekend lover, forever my favorite song on repeat.