A Stupid Love Story

Months are starting to feel
like blinks and the five blinks
we shared seem pointless
to dwell on when our lives are dwindling.
When you're old and wrinkled and your
eyes flutter
shut and only open
when gloved fingers shine a flashlight
to check the contraction
of your pupils that will
swallow your caramel brown irises "" I hope you notice
that the man pumping
your chest with his palms
pressed into your sternum is giving you a wink
of his time and I hope you appreciate
that wink more than our blinks if you wake
because the girl you
****** less than two weeks after our break
and the closure you asked for the day before you
did her and you saying that you will always love me
is not love,
but these
months are starting to feel
like blinks and I can't waste an eye roll
on a stupid shit who slutshames and screws around.

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