I want to say, "Stay with me."
But I don't know where I'm going or how I'm getting there.
And I don't matter.
My opinions hold no sway.
I have no pull on this.
I only have memories of beds and couches and warmth.
I only have past lives.
I need to find someone else to push all of this love on since it's not working for you.
We lay like spoons,
in a rented room,
nappily ever after,
every afternoon.
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