It’s Christmas Eve.
I wish more than ever
that this wasn’t happening.

I wish we could have lived
a life together from the start,
like you had with her,
like I’ll never have
with anyone.

I wish you were like your dad
who kept walking past your mom
to see her through a window while
she worked, and he wouldn’t
give up on her, he’d never give up.

Our love, if you could call it that,
went up and down like the
elevators your father worked on.

You said elevators can’t really crash
like they do in the movies, but
ours sure hit the bottom hard. 

So I release you back to the
place you belong, to the people
you used to belong to. Go back to
where the chickens and rats
roam the basement and the dog
pees on the floor, where you
thanklessly plunge toilets and
only get attention when
someone else needs money. 

Surely, that’s where you belong, 

and obviously it’s where
you would rather be.

Surely, you won’t miss us when
you go home again, and that
is a good thing, because
as soon as I can I’m going to
shut the door on you
and never open it again.

Today’s poetry prompt words were: more than ever, elevators, and the dog.
_{Photo by Bagzhan Sadvakassov on Unsplash}

Elevator Love Letter is a song by a band called Stars. I love this song, and think you should go take a listen here: