End Of Pretending

If I’m honest,
she’s a bit like me
if she could be me
she’d make peace
with her past
and forget the hurt.
If I were her,
I’d give what I could.
She forgives what’s mine to live.
An altruistic melody
stagnates the rearview mirror.
I handed my last
dollar to a beggar on
the corner for spare change.
Jesus was to come tomorrow,
she promised.
Back from the dead kinda thing
It offended me that God hadn’t
given me a heads-up.
I could have shacked up
one more time with Mary Weaver.
But fate led me to a bar,
listening to a woman telling
me her dirty little secrets,
which comprised a couple
felonies, and just plain
bizarre behavior.
I mean, who tips cows
over at night?
“We did the night we lost our
virginity,” the woman said.
“Thought you’d pretend you’re over me.”

Twitter – @AC0040

(© 2022 AC)

(WattpadAmazon KindleSpillwordsThe Writers Club)

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