(poem) east southwest parkway

It’s an over told story so I’ll start at the end.

You never say goodbye. You only ever say see you later, even though it still means forever. It’s a lie you tell yourself. The comforting deception of later, someday, eventually. 

Less like abandonment more like a riptide.

But that’s the catch-22. Nothing’s ever meant to be, everything is. 

We were Romeo and Juliet. We were strangers at a bus stop. We were bullets in the cross fire.

We’ll drive opposite directions on the interstate and I’ll listen to the song you loved.

I’ll think about you.

You’ll call eventually.

We’ll meet again someday.

I’ll see you later.