Every morning I drain the bathtub
of all my sins and remember the time in 2009
when I drained the life out of this relationship. I drain myself
like a gasoline pump squeezing the last once out

as the numbers slowly tick the count
until they stop. And I know I’ll run out of fuel  
before twelve o’clock as I always do. When I get home,
I’ll drain the bottle to fill the emptiness of living a life

that goes out, but never holds anything in. And at that time,
I’ll drain my mind because remembering is
a blood-******* leech that feeds on my thoughts. And so,
this train makes its final stop at seven o’clock. It was nice

to know you. I left you a note. It’s under
the pillow. When you lift my heavy head, before you make
this loveless bed, (which is my throne) it will be printed on
monogrammed stationary with a title of its own. Maybe you’ll send it

out, or keep it for yourself. If you send it out, make sure
you let them know there’ll never be another….