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….