A worn-out kind of way.

Maybe I shouldn’t have
walked you home
on a wet hot summer night
after too many drinks.
But I did.

Maybe I shouldn’t have
let you kiss me hard
on a random dark stoop
in Hell’s Kitchen.
But I did.

Because I love(d) you.
In a worn-out kind of way.
There’s nothing left.
We’re tapped out.
Worn down.
Damaged.
Used-up.
Done.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s