She focuses so much on what could happen;
she always misses what is happening.

Smokes so much she makes me want to quit.

An air of ominous doom,
sits as thick as the smoke she exhales.

It’s overwhelmingly depressing.

Anything larger than small doses,
drives one to madness.

I’ve learned to love better from a distance.

I’ve heard insanity defined:
& they say,
Doing the same thing over & over,
& expecting different results.

I say,
that’s not really that crazy.
What’s insane is doing the same thing,

over & over,
knowing the result,
will be the same pain as before,
but doing it in spite of the pain.

They also say,
If you’re not a part of the solution,
you’re a part of the problem.

God, I hope that isn’t so…

Because I just sit & watch,
her deteriorate & disappear.

Down to days on the clock.

Bit by bit…

Piece by piece…

All I do is alleviate.

Damage control.

Make her laugh.

Stress her about my crazy life.

Life is performance ART.



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