to the same place I always
end up with you. I’m sick of
staying stuck, thinking we’re doing
better when we’re not. I’m sick of

going back to the same old excuses
that we both been using. We’re a bad
habit without the high. It’s time to ask
myself why I’m staying in this. I wear

my anguish like my lipstick – thick
My heartstrings become a dipstick for
measuring the pain. Tears connect like beads
on a chain.  The spell’s been broken a long

time ago. I came back after I let go. It was
a bad decision. They are the only kind I make,
for the sake of keeping the status quo. Why?
Who the **** knows!