Last night,
I thought I was bereft,
but then I remembered that I get monthly cheques,
for the damage you left,
so I got a bottle of vodka,
and got the fuck on with it.
Some day,
you’ll just be a song,
on a compilation album,
a poem I perform,
in the cities we might have visited,
you’ll be an explanation for my art,
and nothing more.
Forevermore,
as you used to say.
Great post 😁
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