You’ll Miss Me When I’m Gone
Seems like we never learn.
We only give in to love
When someone’s dead or gone.
Always we fear being smothered
By an overbearing family; freedom
stifled in a ground squirrel-gray
cell of our own making. We find
reasons not to call or excuses for
not stopping by or pathetic pretexts
for our neglect. Only after the leaving
does love rear it’s lovely head and shed
its callous, cold cocoon.
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