Cantaloupe

Cutting a cantaloupe alone in my kitchen. 
Another weekend.
Another heartache.
Nothing is ever as good as it seems. 
Another doormat.
Another kitchen burner.
Back burner.
Give. Give. Give.
Cut. Cut. Cut.
Spill my guts out another time.
Another gutted feeling

resting in the trash. 
Nothing is ever as good as it seems.  

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