<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Judging by all the smoke up in this joint,
\nI think it’s safe to say
\nthat we’ve shot gunned our relationship
\nstraight into the bottom of this ashtray.
\nIt’s as if we didn’t see this day coming or going
\nor coming apart at its seams
\nuntil it was going going gone,
\nlike that 2001 Pop Odyssey Celebrity NSync song,
\nthat is you ask me,
\nwas all kinds of wrong.
\nIt was as if somewhere along all the lines
\nwe fell off the rails,
\nbut only to bump back up again
\nbecause our addiction to each other \u2028couldn’t keep us apart.
\nIt was as if part of you
\ntook part in me,
\nfor the most part
\npart and parceling
\nthe reason why we kept partying
\nto avoid parting each other’s company.
\nIt was as if we
\ntravelled back to the 70s
\nin search of soul searching,
\nin search of free love,
\nfree peace,
\nin search of releasing ourselves from \u2028any responsibility of ever committing to each other;
\nlike free and fake hippy hypocrisy-
\nall-is-fair-in-love-and-war-
\nand easy breezy beautiful is:
\nBullshit,
\nbecause we deserved more.
\nwe deserved
\nmore than the liberties we weren’t free to take,
\nmore than the love we weren’t free to make,
\nmore than the chronic “oh shit”
\nin the wake of every last night’s love affair,
\nas we’d lay limb-locked and lost,
\nlanguished as prisoners of our own war,
\nas we’d lay atop the bed of nails
\nin which we’d nail each other
\nand nail each other
\nto the cross that we’d both bear;
\nas we’d lay bare skin –
\nrolled in between bedsheets
\nbedsheets that absorbed the blood
\nwe spilled from each other’s flesh,
\nour own fingernails etching zigzags
\nalong the lengths of our backs;
\nas we’d lay back,
\nlike D.O. Double G,
\npacking bubonic chronic
\ninto the cracked bowl of our relationship
\nsparking it
\npulling it up the lengths of our necks,
\nletting it collect in the depths of our throats
\nand just when we’d be on the verge of taking the
\ntoke
\nand talking the talk about what was going on
\nbetween us
\nyou’d pull the choke
\nand let every last bit of hope hang over our heads
\nlike a cloud of smoke that never settled.
\nIt was as if you never wanted me,
\nbut wanted me to want you
\nso that you would get what you wanted
\nwhenever you wanted it;
\nas if you thought that I would never think
\nthat that’s what you were thinking;
\nBut thinking back on it now,
\nwe never had a chance in hell because
\nthere’s only so much one can take,
\nonly so much compromise one can make,
\nonly so much shit one can shrug off, shake and swallow
\nbefore their insides become a wasteland;
\nonly a matter of time \u2028’til that waste of time turns septic,
\n’till each grain of toxic resentment
\ncan no longer filter through the hourglass of one’s patience;
\nthat no matter which way you put the thing down,
\nflip it or reverse it, \u2028there’s no turning it around, bright eyes –
\nSo this time,
\nI’m drawing the line,\u2028’cause every time I trusted you with the chalk-\u2028you snorted it;
\nand I’ve papered over our cracks so many times \u2028that my fingertips are turning black from how old your news is.
\nYour dreadheaded-tattooed Tibetan flag pumped up kick bullshit
\nI’m far from namaste
\nover this GaGa love game
\nI’m rising from the flame,
\nlike a phoenix\u2028born from this ashtray.
\nso judging by all the smoke up in this joint,
\nI suggest we call a ceasefire
\nbecause we’ve shotgunned love
\nstraight into a full blown war
\nand there’s so many empty bullet shells lying on the floor
\nthat I don’t know how I made it out alive
\nBut I do know \u2028that sometimes,
\nthe best way to say goodbye
\nis to say nothing-
\nblow it all sky-high \u2028and just live
\nand let all the rest of it
\ndie.<\/p>\n