at the risk of this reading
like a strain
of
you’re so vain
i can’t help that one last time
this poem is about you
but it’s wednesday
garbage night
the midweek evening
we must take out the tedious trash
another thought we’ll share for awhile
the load so much heavier this week
filled with wreckage of thanksgiving
our bodies
and the gifts given
coffee scooped thoughts
of a life together
there will be no gesture of contempt
delivered to your door
no “you did this to me” t-shirts
they leave tonight with my passion
you scream go away
to an apologetic ghost
then subscribe to my blog
you’re gonna hate me
for not giving you a reason
to hate me
unlike your former saints
i care enough about you
to not move the negative vacuum
we’ve become
from the real world
to a wordpressed ether
there will be no vigil held
i will not be
the next monster you created
i never understood
why you insist on provisional living
in a permanent space
you can’t be haunted by lessons learned
a lifetime from now
when you ask your old friend
the angel of death
if i had anything to say
at the end
he’ll say yeah,
she wished
you both could have learned
to trust
instead of doubt
and
all the way to the last breath
she
fucking
loved
you
the only way to achieve indifference
is to make this
the last line of my life
i ever give to you
kiss on the forehead