being the other

I only write these words
to lift that suffering from them shoulders,
once you placed it on mine for some time.

stumbling through trash has become
somewhat routine,
routine enough to be considered
a hobby.

you’re just that-
lack of substance,
feeding off what little
some would call
you have to offer.

I wrote up some drafts of how
I’d go about ending this chapter,
but they all included a demise
that I set aside for your trash.

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