This is how it ends

It ends with me in the morning, plastered, trying, but mostly failing, to leave without making a fuss. If only these utensils would cooperate. It ends with you walking up and doing that crooked smile and me trying not to fall back in again. It ends with us reminiscing on how fast four years can go when they are filled with sin and impropriety. It ends with me saying a silent prayer, asking for forgiveness for all the times I was too weak to say no. It ends with me trying to realign my confused moral compass, hoping to find the direction of absolute north.

THIS IS HOW IT ENDS|THE MAGUNGA

Thoughts?

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