you are not good
at endings. you are awkward
and careless,
you stumble and stammer
with words,
with notes. you want to
wrap things up neatly,
to tie a bow around
the box of sorrow
and call it a day.
part of you wants to leave
the door open,
just in case things could
change.
you are bad at this,
but you keep trying.
keep wrapping, keep finding
a new box to say what
you are unable to say.
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