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Thoughts: I don’t want to do battle with you anymore.
I haven’t the stomach for the fight.
I’m worry-weary and downtrodden.
I’ve lost interest in what you have to say.
Your clever ways have ceased to impress me.
May you slip through my fingers.
I want to lose the thread,
To forget what I was concerning myself with.
I see you now, drifting away, disappearing into the distance.
Good riddance: you outstayed your welcome.
Your endless stories have been cluttering up the place for too long.
Time to kick back, spread out and exhale deeply.
What a relief to have my home back to myself at long last.
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