She’s had a lot
of painful breakups.
And I’m just here
the unwelcome guest.
Telling nothing new.
Nobody’s fighting.
Nobody knows
what to say.
I remember the
taxi ride down
Park Lane.
The song playing
on the radio.
It’s so over now,
was the message.
A portal to a
trance state.
Opening that box
from under the stairs.
The things that
were hers.
And the rain.
I hear it outside.
The constant flow.
The things we don’t
want to know.

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