it was independence day last year when we plastered on our fake smiles for the final time

the scrambling to hold the pieces of us together had worn us past the point of our flames exhaustion

we swam and did the things normal people do while denying the cracks in the facade were canyons, insurmountable by action and deed

our final co-dependence day was her freedom, bought on lies and hidden machinations that i bought by the bushel

it had been broken for too long, but broken in as well, that pair of shoes that you wouldn’t wear to a wedding, but probably to a funeral

the who and why of it all means nothing this long past, but it’s funny the things that make hindsight twenty twenty in a present of open sores, an open source discourse of discontent

the only flag we flew was white as we gave up, i say all this like i had a choice, i was willing to live in the corpse of what was, even as i knew it was slowly poisoning us, this dead thing that was once possibly love

this independence day is that, a self imposed solitary confinement in the name of freedom, grilling myself over ashed out coals, but content in c’est la vie, la vie

merci pour les souvenirs, j’espère que votre vie est remplie de joie et d’amour