this time

you do not come to me in a dream

you do not turn up at my door

there is no hysterical slam-down call

no hurried steps upon my floor

this time

no

rather you slink through and out the back

send your pristine petulant pettiness

on its neat way so you can be free

to come out and play

for a while

and drop by my page

to drool oblique impeccabilities

at me in that casual cowardly

slant that is yours truly

oft times you busily nurse

another hurt feeling

with wet and toxic breast

until it dies its martyr death

such a bloody fest you know

your best

should you look in the mirror

do you see you?

do you see one coward heart

or do you also see two?

seasofme290912obsess

in the mean time time i am not sure being brave is all it is made out to be.