This is a Tiny Note I Left as a Promise the I Would Break

I told you I would be here

at sunrise, but the moon

called my name 

and I had to follow.

In other words as the sun set,

it drug the conversation into a flatline

and I hate dial tones.

What I am saying is-

that goodbye is more syllables

than footsteps out the door,

and my exit is inevitable.

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