This is you getting used to us
At the end of our page
Turning our memories into dust
With the next bottle of scotch you’ll engage
This is me trying to get by
With the fact that we are over
Using my poems to keep my eyes dry
Drunk on sorrow even if I’m sober
This is you attempting to forget
That were are already through
Attempting to delete pictures of me and yet
You couldn’t press the button, could you?
This is me pretending to be strong
Now that I am alone
Faking a smile, even if it looks wrong
Tell a joke like say “I’m moving on.”
This is us trying to accept
That what we’ve had is gone
Stay as friends, act cool, except
It’s difficult after all is said and done
Airah Writes 