Day: Aug 17, 2021

All I think about is the day you run out of things to combat –

And you’re left there with your pain,

Left without keys under the doormat.

I hope the way I play the field tears your insides into pieces.

You promised me I will never arrive,

Never see the place where all peace lives.

But my stamina found a way to bloom without you there.

Now you only have the photographs

And your own empty stares.

You ask about me in the shop I used to visit after school.

They know all about your history,

They even call you the small-town fool.

All I think about is the day you run into me in a parking lot.

I don’t resemble your daughter,

You’ve become just an afterthought.

I hope the way I walk by, cold and unfazed, rips you apart.

Despite your worst wishes, I pulled through.

To spite you, I stayed honest at heart.

-JW