Dear love, why do we persist in wearing these Janus masks?
And continue to play these exquisitely beautiful
games of Russian roulette?
Where we stare one another down relentlessly across
this battered kitchen table,
the worn revolver lying between us, five slots all
opportunities for better tomorrows,
remember how that was?
We always knew it would come down to this,
that promise packed tight, sealed with a kiss.
Icy blue eyes gaze apathetically into hazy brown irises.
And animosity blooms deep within the cavity
where a heart formerly beat.
This organ used to feel nothing but affection for you,
my sweet before you extracted it,
and desecrated its remains with the toxicity of your lies.
Darling, spin the chamber, it’s your turn.
Pull the trigger.
What’s the verdict?
I’ve long since left the table,
I’m too numb to care.