every monday.

A Poem by Sarah Wilson

come on, now.
every monday? fresh flowers, more tears...
stop crying for me. i’m okay now.
it doesn’t hurt anymore.

i hate when you ask questions.
you don't even listen when i answer.
...do i feel happy now? stop asking me that.

how can i be happy? i miss you guys.
17 years isn’t enough time with a family.
but i don’t hurt, either. i don’t feel anything.
i got what i wanted. so, just.

be happy, move on and be happy.
that’s all i really wanted, to make you guys happy,
and…oh, you’re leaving. okay. well, see you next week.
if….if you wanna come back sooner….
you should.

it gets lonely on the other side.