You never should have, but you did, your ability to judge the volatility of a situation seems to have fallen by the wayside in a manner disproportionate to the amount of alcohol you consume, false bravado your best defense against the onslaught of my discerning gaze and I can see how much it bothers you that I sized you up in the three minutes it took for you to not take my hand but you took the advantage of gender specific roles and now you're wondering why you bothered...

I am after all

dis-pose...able.

I'm a continental type of suicide

Perfect in the way I('m) cover(ed) up

the only stains that show
are coffee cup rings on my living room floor
you never bothered
to stay awhile

I am immaculate in my ability
to remove

myself

I am the impartial observer of what your clumsy hands do to my breasts
to the inches of skin your mouth never touches
Dis/pass/ionately I remove
myself
from us
There is no us
there'd have to be some sort of joining and this-
this is only
the most minimal of
tactile
tolerance

I'd bite you
if I thought you might
stop wake up

Your compliments aren't even backhanded
merely backdated
I'm tired of them
because they've been said so many times
by people far better at
dis(as)sembling
than you

you just can't be bothered
when I'm being so obliging

"I'd pay you if you were a whore" you said

at which point
there is nothing to be
salvaged

your ship went down
all hands aboard
and a captain's log
with one final entry

"I should have known better"

but you see

your kind never does.

It's a continental type of suicide

and I confess
only a waning of affect
to your idiotic combustibility

Perfect

in the way
you self-destruct.

So you go for broke
and I'll just go home

I'm not her anyways

But then, you wouldn't be here if I was.

09/08/2007

Author's Note: #27

Posted on 09/09/2007
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