me.

i have this condition.

i never speak to my
exes
for fear that I may
fall
into a chasm of regret

i eat jam
from a spoon.

i stream shows
late into the
night
whilst smoking
alone

i set up
businesses that
inevitably
fail.

i avoid the
front row
and i avoid
those who know
me

i like
rocky 3.

i sleep with your
photograph
within arm’s reach
because
something within me
says that
if i can touch it
then you never really
left.

i keep your
ashes
in my handbag
in a coffee
jar.

i fall for all
the wrong
men

and when

they leave
i blame myself.

i don’t look
into the mirror
and see
a friendly
face

in case
you were
wondering

i go to his
place
and leave bits of me
there

so he doesn’t
forget
me

because one day
i know he will
leave me
too

and if he has
my book of
poetry

then one day
long
in the
future

the words
may make him
change
his
mind

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