Empty Junk Drawer at a landfill near Yellow Springs

I hope that you never know what it feels like
to not truly matter to anyone-
At the moment I’m just throwing shit at the wall to see what sticks-
Nothing does.
I need a category for comfort
Commit to one.
Label me.
I’m fine with nothing. Nothing is familiar.
Say, you’re nothing to me.
I’ve been trying not to linger…
I can accept that. Just say it. Release me.
Otherwise, I am lost. You’re teasing.
Or do you only want people when they can’t be had?
I understand if anyone does baby, I do.
It will be a lonesome affliction, I know its true.
I’ve been trying not to linger, I really have…
You’re losing me. Was this the plan?
I hope it makes you happy.
Misery is a choice. The dice are in your hands.
I hope it makes you happy.
Sue me because I wanted to make you smile over and over, just because.
Promise that you will come to my funeral on a dove.
I hope it makes you happy.
Tell all my family and friends that you were the last man that I loved.
Tell them that I didn’t much give a shit about anything anymore after I lost us.
So they will understand too.
Nothing is cool. Nothing I can be.
I hope on that day you will be happy, finally,
when it hits you that you can outlive love.
Tell them the day that I gave up.
A label was all I wanted from you.
But nothing I did was enough. Maybe its all too much.
Even then, I hope that you never know what it feels like to not truly matter to anyone…
Hell is just a persistent scuff.

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