The Drunkard's Break-UpA Poem by Phillip FrancisThe overall
demand required to sustain our relationship has taken its toll, you crave my
attention, prevent me from leading a tranquil life, causing me more pain than
elation, if I may be so blunt... I'm sick of it. I'm sick of your lies. I'm sick of your selfishness. I'm sick of your meddling. I'm sick of your anger. I'm sick of your violence. I'm sick of your tastelessness. I'm sick of your musk. I'm sick of your temperament. I'm sick of your illusions. and I'm sick of your abuse. Once true companion, no longer are you my inspiration, my rock, my lover, nor my best friend, I have grown wise to your deception. I've foiled your plan to corrupt my soul, to feed your joy with my heartache, you've cheated me of twelve years of my life and I forbid to give you another day. It's been two years, four months, eight days, thirteen minutes and twenty-five seconds since our last embrace, and I don't miss you. I don't miss the way you built me up, only to tear me down. I don't miss the long nights, segregated from society. I don't miss the warmth you once instilled. I don't miss the false sense of courage. I don't miss the confusion added to each day together. I don't miss the times yearning for your arrival. I don't miss the way I always looked foolish in your presence. I don't miss our comradery. and I don't miss depending on you. We never seized the opportunity for a proper goodbye, my hope is these words will provide closure for us both, I've moved on, so consider this the end of our story, I hold no ill will, as I granted you the power to begin with, but it's time for me to take it back. This is the end of my ethanol affair. © 2016 Phillip FrancisReviews
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2 Reviews Added on March 30, 2016 Last Updated on March 31, 2016 Author
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