The Year of You

I wanted this year to be
the year of me.

I realize now it became
the year of you.

A pretty start
with an ugly end
and some volatility in between.
A predictable pattern of mine.

I’ve arrived
at the point where
nothing is left.
No doubt.
No question.
No curiosity.
No hope.

No dreams.
No magic.
No time.

I’m ready for a new year.

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