what we tell ourselves.

And so I kept my eyes ahead
on the winding road
paying no attention to the season
changing before my eyes.
I never liked this neighborhood
because it reminded me of better days
so I chose to keep my face forward,
mouth closed
even as our favorite song played on the radio.
Had it been a year? Two years? Maybe more?
And had it gotten to a point
where if we saw the other on the street
we wouldn’t have the decency
to offer a “Hello”?
I had forgotten what “civil” meant
in terms of matters of the heart.
So I drove on
Despite the rain smashing into the windshield
Despite the shaky hands gripping the wheel.
Despite the voice inside
repeating the same phrase
over and over…

“Don’t go.”


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