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Good Rittens


I wished . . . and hoped . . . and dreamed . . . and prayed . . .
That this wouldn't happen between us.
But that's the way things go, I guess
So I'm packing my CDs, my stained sheets and my stained
heart and leaving but
I'll leave these tears here with you,
I don't need them.
But why don't you return my coffeemaker as well as my
precious time, my private thoughts and my inner
pride . . . When I think of all the things I've given
you that you'll never be able to return . . .
But maybe, if we try really hard, we can squeeze your
hurtful lies, your unfaithful ways and your bullshit
excuses in YOUR suitcase along with those empty
apologies, those crocodile tears, and that glow-in-thedark
clock I never could stand.
Did you get all of your laundry? How about those boots you
left upstairs and the insincerities you left by my door . . .
Don't forget your toothbrush on my sink and while you're

at it, grab the deception that you left on the table.
Please . . . take it with you.
Just take what you came with, leave the genuine concern,
the precious affection and my priceless secrets here . . .
And my Playstation, too.
Is that everything?
Good.
Now leave your key by the door
And what you've lost on your mind.
While I gather what's left back together
And regain what I never should have given you.
Good riddance.

Written by Jordan Charles

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