This

should be blank

like that conversation
of weekend plans that are not happening
of fasting
and how I miss you,
but sandwiches are dry without condiments.
(like closeness without compliments.)
silence.

sometime this weekend.
maybe my attitude is changing
maybe I don't know what I want.

I just wish I had the option to choose,
and not have it be chosen for me.

there are more or less 60 cans on my counter,
countless numbers of metal grates on city sidewalks,
and that fucking red sign on the top of that building,
That will never let me be.