Halfway Back Home

You’re folding clothes in that small town kitchen

Coffee ring ghosts on the countertop

My jacket still hangs by your old back door

Like I just stepped out for a walk

I’m stuck in traffic, city sun fading

Your name pops up on my phone

We both start typing, then both start erasing

Acting like we’re fine alone

But every red light

Feels like a rewind

Back to your headlights

In my driveway

We’re both halfway back home in our minds

Driving round in circles, different skies

Telling all our friends that we’ve moved on

But we still sleep in your old song

You’re in my “how you been?” every time

I’m in your “I’m okay” little lie

We’re miles apart, but under the same moon

Missing each other like we’re supposed to

You still talk to my mom on Sundays

She asks if I’m eating right

I still see your dad at the hardware store

He smiles, says, “come by sometime”

We’re both side-stepping

All the confessing

But every small thing

Spells your name

If you pulled in my drive, I’d leave the porch light on

If you called me right now, I’d let it ring once, then I’d pick up the phone

’Cause we keep pretending it’s better this way

But your shadow still walks through my every day