
If you don’t tell me what you need, how am I supposed to know?
he came over to chain my door,
to give an extra sense of security,
and I watched him choose
between two drills and hundreds of bits
as he examined the space.
metal.
thick, double-paned.
hollow.
he tapped the nails, then screwed
them, then drilled, then tapped again
and I remembered how eager he used
to be to make me happy
but I couldn’t muster up
any love for him no matter
how hard I tried.
today, he left me with extra bolts,
extra locks, and an extra dent
in my heart.
I should feel something for him,
I should, but I don’t.
and now his damn cologne
is all that I smell.
how will I get rid of that?

I just want you to be you while being with me. If you cannot do that, there can never be an US. The simplicities of life really are simple.
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