Inspiration hits with a flash, stories written on the go. A rumble of laughter and the tale is heard only in echoes. The wind blows me in a new direction. Whom shall I visit next?

Leaving the kitchen light on

Tells me that there’s dishes to wash there before going to bed


Turning your blinker on

Lets me know what you’ll do so I won’t panic


That magnetic sign on the dishwasher

Informs me whether the dishes inside it are clean or dirty


The way you answer me in grunts when I ask if you love me

Is a clear enough way to show that you just don’t any more.


No words are needed

No fight must come

Forget the shouting

I’ll just keep mum


I’m just the roadkill you can drive away from.


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