Not By Chance

Not by Chance

You chose to end our Once Upon a Time.
Past months hadn’t been a rhyme
so I wasn’t surprised to find
you dined out that night,
... with her.

The night of the day you told me our luck
had run out, like the milk I poured into your coffee
when you stopped by at lunch,
like you never did.

“Life is a chance, luck of the Irish,
dice didn’t roll our way,”
you explained; you went on about
the space I took and how you needed
it back.

“Yes, dear, I understand, that’s the way the
fortune cookie crumbles,”
I wanted to reply and effectively
cliche you to death.
But I remained quiet.

I knew it wasn't by chance,
this end for me,
this beginning for you.

Now ... now when you walk in and
try to give me back the space
you find you don’t really need,
you avoid my eyes.

You plead excuses to your coffee.

Four leaf clovers have nothing to do with us,
only the grass they grow in.
But if you’ll just look at my eyes,
you just might make me
believe.