Don’t Cry Today
I tucked, Don’t Cry Today into the corner of my mirror. Hand written in pen, I should’ve typed it out, y’know? No. You don’t. See, this is my third time crying over the course of a weekend, actually it’s not the weekend, it’s Friday. Now that I calculate the amount of drops from my lashes to the care I knew you once carried with you, it adds up to my entire body weight. I told you I don’t like to be naked any more, that being sick puts a damper on my appetite. You said, you’ll love to eat me up, even if I’ve been left out for too long. My vision is getting a little foggy now, my appetite surrendered. Whether you want me or not, can we just pretend that I’m worth a goodbye.
Even a hi.