Last night I walked home with my keys between my knuckles,
It was after 11pm and I’m not stupid.
I’d been to a party,
the snacks were fine,
the lemonade warm,
but my throat lacked the warm burn of someone tasting vodka and saying goodbye to their inhibitions.
And as I walked home,
scuttling and shivering,
I pulled my phone out of my pocket as I passed the bus stop,
And thought of you.
Normally I would call,
In the brief 7 minute walk from the party to my front door,
and I would be distracted from my keys and the street light.
And so, I smiled sadly,
because you would be at a party of your own.
And you wouldn’t have your keys between your knuckles,
And you wouldn’t be feeling scared or alone.