Living off of long
white lies,
squirming out of breath.
Hear comes the maid.
Too change out my
yellow,
bear stained sweaty
sheets.
When I hear the key,
the bathroom always calls me.
I can not remember when
the black dried up banana's
out back in the wooden bowl
here she comes,
when last were green.
Pulling the yellow ones
from yesterdays bag,
I stand up too watch through the key hole.
Looking down,
I have never felt so much guilt,
always shaking.
Missing love,
I wait by the cooler.
Knowing why,
I hide inside, coming out.
When I am gone.
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