Skeletons Poem by Emma R. Kessler

One time it's a mistake.
Two times it's a habit.
This time
I couldn't even feel it.
Maybe he didn't love me good,
But I think he loved me the best that he could.
The sad thing is, that if I was able,
I'd call him here right now to spin fables,
Look over the past,
Maybe we could convince each other it wouldn't last.
We'd just sit and have coffee.
Maybe I'd let him hold me.
I can't apologize for being lonely.
A kiss couldn't hurt could it?
Damn it.
I never thought I'd be this way.
That this would be me.
Forensics should be here, shouldn't it?
Asking about the skeletons in my closet.