Damn you for saying you adored me
that balmy night in your car.
Damn you for saying you’d be right here
waiting for me while I finished traversing hell.
In a way you saved me
in a way you are the one
but only in a way.
I admired your mediocrity.
The steady job, football on Sundays,
All of this exotic to me, promising, good nesting ground.
But I am of finer things than ‘Scrubs’ and mind-numbing computer games,
you’re boring.
I could revel in your past with you
but you would not indulge in mine.
I would jigsaw you into the statue of David
but my imagination is boundless
and you were just patchwork.
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