Consistent Inconsistency

For the record, I was never inconsistent.
I liked a girl,
I loved a girl,
I lusted for a girl,
I was hurt by a girl,
I lost love for a girl
Always in order,
consistency in rhythm.
A rhythm without repeat.
I never hated the girl.

Perhaps if you punctuated
And made the ends clear
You wouldn’t get tired
Of ceaseless ends
and interminable beginnings.

I cannot make sense
Of one sided conversations
Cryptic poems
Ignored texts
And cold shoulders.

You only made one thing clear:
Nothing.

 

 

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