notes
left behind.
whether on a windshield
or front door,
or left on a pillow or
kitchen table.
the hand written note is
death to me.
it's never
hey honey, love you
can't wait to see you tonight.
instead,
it's hey buddy,
you left your lights on.
or we bumped into your car,
or
you put the trash out
too early.
we can hear you
through our walls, could
you and the young woman
who stops by every now
and then
keep it down.
the note is never good.
it's usually something like,
sorry, i love you but
i'm leaving you
for someone else.
someone better, smarter,
richer,
kinder, more handsome
and has a boat
that sleeps nine.
hate the note.
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