Ending It

I give up after single tries.

You can’t bribe, stick, fix, drug me, tell me what’s good for me.

The end was never a fixed point and people have gone on to other, better things and we’ve stayed the same for eight years, more, and we’ve relied on the mistakes of the other and we’ve not said prayers and we’ve had people die, leave us, pick men instead of us.

Our shared memories don’t make me responsible.

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