Memory will rust

and erode into lists of all that you gave me:

a blanket, some matches,

this pain in my chest, the best parts of lonely,

duct-tape and soldered wires, new words for old desires,

and every birthday card I threw away.

(Left and Leaving - The Weakerthans)

a collection of day6 x you drabbles with plenty of h/c and angst because i'm messy like that.