My group therapy ended today
Termination is such a violent word
For such a soft thing
Termination is harsh
Reminiscent of layoffs
And Austrian-born California governors
No. This wasn’t a firing.

It was a funeral.

Round robin reflection at a somber dinner table
An exchange of platitudes and promises
To stay in contact, to be available
And we all meant it. Every word.

But no.

We were demented sorcerers,
Holding tightly to fading magics

Ex-lovers
Trying to be friends

Though it was, ironically, a machine that once said.
“A thing is not beautiful because it lasts.”
And every part of me I found in them
Now is a part of them found in me
Carried in my self-revelations
In strides straight and confident as an honest Keyser Soze.
And though I am a penny none the richer

Today I am indigo.