There’s no such thing as a clean cut,
a straight road,
or a dumb mutt
I live with ghosts
I’m that unfinished business
men always come back to
an afterthought,
a last resort,
A hidden track you find by mistake
years later
a text message that’s six months late
but I
still respond with an exclamation mark
You could knock on my door
And stab me in the chest
And I’d still invite you in
And apologize for bleeding
Written October 2nd 2020
