A Pale Scrawl
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Sad boy weekend

1/19/2017

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Picture
They called it a sad boy weekend
Spending time with two men
So similar to one another
They can't stand each other's company
Each in a different shade of the grey spectrum
After their perfect wife left them


One's been out the other side
His life still in scattered chunks around him
The edges refusing to match
So he doesn't bother to pick them up anymore


The other has just been told
A spiral begun
Without knowing how many times there are to turn
The light still plays tricks on him
She might change her mind
But she's let an apartment
She won't tell him where
Theirs is too redolent
Of dried tears and spent rage to stay


Because it's more than chipping ice from the walk
Or bringing in the trash can
It's reaching a hand across the couch cushion
Letting cold toes wriggle between your shins


It was shunning her into silence
Verbal stilettos deflating her joy
Until the words wouldn't come
And the music wouldn't play
And she grew cold and quiet inside
A soul in torpor


It doesn't matter if he meant it
It matters what he did
If she cried and wouldn't tell him why
While he looked anywhere but the mirror
Her confession was more wasted precious breath
Fallen on dumb ears
So she glazed over
Let the numbness come
She waited for spring
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