Mistakes mixed with days

The ringing in my ears
refuse to quiet now.
Now, I’m alone, with
nothing to show save
the loose contents
of my bank account.

Spent three days
drinking and thinking
and not trying to think
about you –
but it hasn’t worked.
Not like it was supposed to
but it makes it feel
better – this idea of losing
you – when downing a
drink and two….

I’m digging a ditch.
I building the walls
so that the next time I meet
someone half-as-good as you
they won’t fall down and
reveal the worn-out-wasted
broken-shattered me.

This is about me,
dealing with the ‘about you’,
and words lose diction,
meaning falling down.

Ears reminded, hearing
the melody of the song
from us, about a long time ago,
when things were new and
falling-in-love wasn’t a choice
but a rule.

But now I’m digging a ditch.
Building myself in from the world and you
as I drown. I’m not sure what to do but
swim in this blackened pool,
but arms get tired.
And the mind cannot live
in a cave built for one.

I’m digging a ditch,
building the walls so that the
next time I meet someone half
as good as you,
they won’t know the worn-out
wasted-broken-shattered version
of me as you knew.

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