duh!

serpentine illusionis of apples
& oranges
& aren't you supposed to be leaving
instead of leading me on
i'm lost in your eyeshadow
& helplessly flat-tired w/o a spare in your graveyard smile
still reeking of a relationship devoured for no better reason than reason's own existential crisis

the locks were rusty,
looks as if they weren't as trustworthy as the doors we closed
only to open again as soon as self-rightousness
began to cast the air of sin-sational sacriment
divided and disected between our pact
of "this is what we'll do when the time comes" brothers and sisters
memorizing their lines
behind
the back-turned heads of "what should be" women
pacing the hardwoods until the floorboards erode in an ebb of tears

cautelous, caloused, conversations
dead in the water before it even leaves dry land

and i can't stand this waiting
negating who you once were
while debating who you think you should be...
can't you see
that you are not the only one
whose identity lies in jepoardy

& you are not the only one
being changed by your changing...

one day at a time...
one week at a time...
one month, year, life at a time...
when will it end?

(hopefully before it's over)