The Sad Part Is That I Lived

The Sad Part Is That I Lived

Slitting my wrists would be a bit drastic, perhaps.
But pulling my hair out definitely presented itself.
The foyer of my mind a battlefield of malapropisms.

Just this once I wanted to say the right thing to you.
Houdini could not have engineered a better set-up.
The elevator doors closing in. No viable escape.

Two armies in disarray falling all over their comrades
I pulled the grenade pin -- You smell so soap-scented.
10 -- 9 -- 8… It's merely lime hand lotion, you said.

Fumbled in your purse for something you do not need.
Gave a smile. The doors opened, you were gone again.
Leaving me in no man's land. Between eager and dead.

-- © Ciprianowords, Inc. 2014 --