Last First Date

I thought that was you.

Late as fuck.

Still, forgiven in stride, as always, as necessity says.

It was all I could do to calm the butterflies waiting.

There never came a more clearly displayed sign of your falsity.

Fibber in your embelishment of desired compatibility.

Plan to check the dates you lied.

Plan to count the tears I cried.

What matters most is courage in the face of falling.

Your bravery was thin; brittle that broke promises.

Why was the last one more important than the first?

Because it was one you wanted to keep, unlike the burns.

The end is only the beginning,

so fly upward dark angel,

and find a better finale for your Mom.

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