I’m done writing what ifs about us.
I’m done writing one sided rants
Of your insolence.
I’m done writing for forgiveness
And I’m done writing for penitence.
But I’m not done writing.
And I know no matter what I do
No matter how hard I try
No matter how much I chew at these steel chains
I will never be free of you.
There are some people who knew Papa Hemingway
And they said that he was a great writer
But an awful man.
I think he might agree with that.
And I think you would too.
You’re great at what you do my friend
But you’re an awful human being.
And I wish I had never met you
But I wouldn’t be half of this person
I wouldn’t be half of this writer
If you hadn’t taken me by the hand
And shook until my body went limp.
So I’m not going to guarantee no poems about you.
I’m not going to promise to wash your name from my hands.
I’m just going to say no more will I let you
This body of mine.
I’m done with you as a human.