Gathering

No one's ever
physically
noticeably
moved away from me
Just to avoid
Being in the same space
As me
Before tonight.

I try to tell myself
it's him.
Because it is.

Very strange.

Have you ever walked away
from the guy
You know the one
Who asks you for a dollar
To draw your picture
You instinctively tell him no
But you know you shouldn't

And he draws you anyway
And asks about your children

You end up giving him $5 for his intuition.

And you remember those eyes
the ones that walked out
The ones that don't say
Goodnight
Anymore.

You spend half an hour
Listening to a song
You shouldn't
But it plays and repeats
And you talk yourself out of
being totally
alone.
It's not you.
It's them.

But the bed is still
empty.
And the phone still rings
And you answer it
Even though you shouldn't.

And you say,
"I'm leaving soon."