I sometimes stare out my window and I pretend that in five minutes your car will pull up & you will have brought a dozen white roses for my smile. I pretend this when I can't shake my thoughts of you. When the night comes and those five minutes are over, I shut the curtains & turn off the lights & wonder why you left. I cry sometimes when I remember. I pick up the phone after a while & try to rid myself of my pride; I dial every number except the last & I put the phone back down because I have to remind myself that you were the one who left and not me.

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