The Break-Up

I have come here, to tell you to fuck – right – off.

Those bloody fire escape stairs creak as always as I pull them down –

You’ve probably heard me now.

Water from one of those leaky pipes drips as I climb

And a freezing drop falls onto my scalp.

Why did I love this place once?

 

The smell of damp flows past me and lingers,

Your door’s locked. That isn’t a problem. We’ve hotwired cars before,

You and I. Snuck into the bourgeois penthouses.

You’ve made this easy really. I still have your key.

 

I turn the door handle as Mavis from next door smiles at me –

Winks – she thinks I’m getting lucky tonight.

I touch my finger to my nose as she disappears into her cave.

 

I always snuck into your place to surprise you – somehow though, right now –

I feel at my best – blood pumping furiously and all that.

Like Bette Davis in All About Eve, I’m Margo Channing, with more oomph.

 

So, I can’t say I’ll take you back, because that’s fucking wack,

And I can’t say I love you more than life. No. I can’t say that.

But I have a lighter in my hand. And I sure did love this place once.

 

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