Quitting.


I must quit you.
You speak to me,
as if I’m not there.
Then, You dissipate.
Together, we sing
so joyfully,
only to escape my spirit
in search of my soul.
What more melody
can I take in, 
until I am hooked
at first stanza’s end?
I know I am here.
And I sense corruption,
a cou-de-ta to make me into
a robot of dysfunction.
It’s been fun
even when I didn’t have none.
Just too many to choose from
all in one night.  When I do.
That is a lighter I never want to use again.

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