For What It Became In The End, We Were Expecting.
History
with them
was a series
of broken promises
laid waste in lip-stained
wine glasses and bellies
full of cheep liquor
it was the sound of
throats choking on
excuses, creeping in clotted
fur balls —
and the damaged eyes
that no longer cried when
bruised to the
colour of the night sky —
History
with them
was a series of
loving too hard
and caring too little
when marriage was not the
tales of fairies
but just another way to
maintain appearances.
Notes
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