Day Ten

I will not miss you or your fucking soup.

One day when all is gone and all has returned
I will find a way
and it will be shown to me
and the ducks will be warm in the winter.

There are a lot of things in oneself to hate,
it is hard to know where to begin.

There are a lot of memories to desire gone
soups and lies and things we don’t speak of.

I await the judgement
and something else.

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5 thoughts on “Day Ten

  1. I miss his coffee but not the rage, manipulation and the neurotic bullshit. Good riddance to memory-filled meals and talks much ado about nothing.

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