talking to you is like running
though a maze I've memorized and
I know most of the twists and turns.
there are only a few corners I haven't
ventured to explore.
adding a glass of wine or two drops
new walls to that maze, and as I try to speak
I hit barriers I hadn't ever encountered before
you accuse me, "whenever we talk I just talk at you."
I bite my tongue and hope for blood or something warm to fill my lungs.