Prose For The Men Who Can’t Keep Me

So this year,
Will we wake up together and yet alone
Like we did last year?
I’m running out of excuses to talk
And I’m running out of reasons to forgive.

The hardest part about holding water
Is that it has a tendency to drip
And run all over the place,
Evaporating and falling through cracks
And getting soaked in like no other.
Since I’m seventy percent of that,
Maybe that’s why I can never stay
In one place for too long.

That one say in June
When we both looked up at the sky
As we shared iced tea-
Didn’t you know
That I’d only give you one shot at redemption?
The temperature rises as the days go on
And my anger fails to subside.
Don’t you know that the one thing that always remains
Is regret?

Call my name long after the syllables have lost their ring
And when you will want to give me one,
Realize that you no longer have my number to do so.
“You have reached the voicemail box of
Someone who doesn’t give two shits anymore.”
Don’t call back,
I’ll forget your face in a minute anyways.

Prose For The Men Who Can’t Keep Me

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