surpassed quota

you miss the ones who hurt you,
remarkable, a sight beholden.
you kiss him lightly,
and he forgets the day.
so a mother goes around town,
shouting the Alamo took it all,
so a thief takes all a woman’s ammo,
and wonders what wonders wait.

so you miss the ones who let you,
traitors, the words unspoken.
you stand by quietly,
build a fortress in the sidelines,
and they assume forgiveness.

like old red broken bricks by a sidewalk
he is the strike you longed to burn for,
it’s okay, it’s alright, you’ll be the oxygen
to constantly surround him,
in a consuming white mist, in a haze,
in a dream walking lost by his side.

together you’ll conquer matchstick badlands,
you’ll search through the rummage.
you’ll find bobby’s mind before he does,
on the far back of a train,
spitting nonsense meanings he learned
from a dictionary of insanity.

so you’ll both forgive him with conditions,
a plea you didn’t have to bargain.
he’ll take your hand,
explain the slopes and tangents of survival.
so you’ll live blindly, in acceptance,
thinking he’ll always be just enough,
to bring you back around again.

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