Broken Bad Habit II

that it’s better to shower alone
that the small of my back wasn’t as hard to reach
if only i could pretend
that whatever it was,
it was restricting,
i could barely breathe
if i could make-believe
that leaving was easy
that goodbyes were temporary
that we were nothing short of ordinary
i’m sorry
that this is anything but subtle
if only i could pretend
that a poem doesn’t need a sequel
that i don’t miss the thrill of sidewalk adventures
you and me against the police
that it wasn’t bliss
when our souls got lost in the universe that night
high, on top of some high rise tower
if only 26 was just a number

a bad habit,
something like morphine
shit, just one more goddamn hit
how does one win against
a bad habit,
some psychedelic
like making out when you’re sick
you risk it and once more
a bad habit,
like smoking some stale bitch stick
if only i could pretend
that i want none of it

that you were just one more bad habit
you were just another
broken
bad
habit

©

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