National Poetry Month - Day 14

Dear Atlanta,
you are my in-between love
or the love that happened without looking for love
(in all the wrong places)
or a really strong like. You are that kinda-friend
open door and free couch; letting me rest here
without a calendar, without motivation
without pushing me to stay-
or go. And I could love you for that,
but you would be well aware when I kiss you my heart wasn't really in it...
my heart is miles ahead of me.
I can't smile at you with my eyes, and I can't lie:
you've given me more pain than pleasure, left more scars
than your worth; that's why you're an in-between place
and I'm in-between staying and leaving you.


ugh..I hate that ending....jeez...