Brash as a wave
Is your verbose overbearance;
A noise box without a crank,
Just spit and sputter;
Have no breaks.
A false embrace
To make a step towards
What you said you wanted
Because a train on a track
Stops at nothing
Without a destination.

I have to confess,
When I feel your skin
I picture someone else;
When I look in your eyes
I look at my reflection
And question
My intentions
Wondering if I’ll
Ever have the strength
To admit disingenuity.

Puckering lips begging
To be held by another pair,
And mine have no desire
They just blankly stare.
I find more romantic fulfillment
From a pillow late at night
Than your arms
Intertwining within tangled sheets
And fake smiles.

Is this the ****** of the story?
Or did I just finish you again
Because I’m so dry
That I can’t tell why I even
Give you my time or attention.
We’re disingenuous acquaintances,
Not even lovers,
Not even friends,
We’re just here
We’re just convenient
And I think I’m finally spent.