Rindu.

Take me back to a time when we needed less. Back to not having enough to count as fancy, not enough to count as poor.

Take me back to when not enough was enough. Badly-ripped mp3s and crumpled bills. A 2-day old sweater reeking of cigarettes. Mouths moving tunelessly in the dark. Midnight buses to nowhere. Nerves before making a phone call. Eating ramen outside of 7-E by the side of an alleyway. Asking strangers to help with solo pictures. Falling in and out of love far too often, far too hard. Absent-mindedly singing along to Frank Ocean in an old Mercedes. Sun on skin on skin on skin. A time before selfies. Quieter conversations that paid for themselves. More time to read. Less people to miss. Poorly-drawn brows. Writing for no one.

Take me back to a time when we needed less.

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