Your Gal

I am not, anymore, your girl
I am also not your revengeful jerk
But there are things
I don’t want you to think,

For the new coming mornings’ spirit
Don’t learn my body rolled on bed, with bedsheets
And, please, don’t think of your favorite fix
I.e, to go to work or about to have a kiss

In afternoon, for those happy Sundays
We won’t be cooking dinner or preparing sundaes
So, Don’t wince bad for an empty kitchen
Please don’t find me like I am somewhere hidden

On coming elite evenings, don’t try to call me
Nor try to ask for a hot cup of tea
Please, don’t glare at me while turning volume high 
On those long roads, on our silently screaming drives

Because I will be gone, gone down the hill
Don’t watch me, I won’t be on your front seat
All I know is, I am no more your burning need or life’s essence
But don’t, please, feel me any long, not even my absence.
Sharing is caring,

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *