I waited until Significant Other took the hit
When She ran to the kitchen I figured I had better put the pipe down
Her face was red and dry like the felt on a Christmas stocking
And Her eyes were dark stars or buttons. Whatever.
Emergency room doctor nodded while I talked
Having heard these same lies under slight variations in circumstance
My guilt must have made the air around us taste sour
Because his concern-face bunched up into a look of disgust
As if he had licked the metallic shame from the back of my mouth
And She had lost Her mind and gained it back in two hours
Or so She had us all believe for the past few months
But something inside of Her was different in a very bad way
Pounding the message home like an ABC After-School Special
And her eyes were dark stars or buttons. Whatever.
Treasure what you have. Or don't. Whatever.
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