memories

we called each other family
every single night we could 
drown in our memories
or float high above them.
maybe even both if 
minimum wage and allowances
would stretch enough.
we were less than friends
any other day
until the next time we needed
a space to vent and complain
about how sad we were while 
none of us tried to be happy.
you can find the written poem on my blog. links to other social platforms here. — This episode is sponsored by · Anchor: The easiest way to make a podcast. https://anchor.fm/app — Send in a voice message: https://anchor.fm/storiesbynoelle/message Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/storiesbynoelle/support

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