Love, a Coward


This game I play is unforgiving,
and strict, and cold, and harsh.
The love I have, I am outliving;
a cactus in a marsh.

Skip me over and leave me bereft,
shun me at your leisure;
I haven't any bark or bite left
to beg your displeasure. 

I'm choking on the smoke I swallowed
from watching our bridge burn.
I have to know I won't be followed
or able to return. 

I'm full to bursting with the debris
of all my unshed goodbyes.
I know only how to hide and flee
from all the Wait!'s and Why?'s.


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