Tell Me

Tell me one more time

You're not mine

I forgot I wasted your time one time too many

The last straw

The final grain of patience has fallen from the bulb of our hourglass and you refuse to help me flip it over again so…

Tell me no

Tell me you don’t want to talk

Tell me we can’t be friends

Tell me I’m a ten-digit number and no longer a name

Tell me you take a different way home to avoid driving by my street

Tell me if you’re near me you’d want to be closer but you’d rather neither

Tell me your life has been entwined with mine so long you can’t imagine spending another second

Tell me it’d probably lead to another anniversary of dusting it off and trying again

Tell me you rearranged your room so you wouldn’t see me sitting here or laying there

Tell me you dropped the coffee mug I gave you twice because it didn’t break the first time

Tell me you ghosted some sap because he suggested our restaurant

Tell me how liberating it was to not care about letting go

Tell me all about your savagery

Tell me you cut your hair so you could turn your head without thinking of my fingers

Tell me you tossed that perfume and you only wore it out of courtesy anyway

Tell me you gave our favorite hoodie away to charity because the scent stayed and stayed and you could even somehow feel my arms in the sleeves

Tell me you could barely breathe when you wore it

Tell me you’re too busy

Tell me you have neither the time nor the desire

Tell me you’re seeing someone new

Tell me you have a new hoodie

Tell me you drank that bottle of champagne we were saving

Tell me you thought of me briefly as you threw away the cork

Tell me you have nothing to give

other than the forgiveness you gave me months ago

Tell me you’re over it

Tell me over and over it’s over

Then say it all again

Maybe I’ll believe it then