The Onerist

I work so hard to avoid even the mention of you, compartmentalize. When I saw your photos today it isn’t even that I felt something. It didnt hurt. You’re still handsome. But you aren’t kind and I dont have room to feel shittily for you anymore. You dont have that power over me these days. 

There’s a dust flavored feeling to the end of this. Long overdue, you disappear into wherever men one used to know go once they drift from your sky. Silence across the digital horizon, maybe I’ll run into you in a theater lobby someday. 

For a little longer I’ll send missives or respond to yours, realizing quickly you’ll only press energy into my open palm if you think I’ll fuck you. So much for 2017. 

~~~