apathy in A

the residue of our tawdry love
lies rank and stale on the sheets
and with every slowing breath
I am reminded of our union

a cigarette disguises the scent
hanging in the air like neon
you turn your back and count the times
that we’ve lain like this before

not speaking after the passion
only arguments to follow
there is nothing else we do together
just fighting, fucking and smoking

there is no love between us now
to be honest it was only ever lust
still the spark that can burn so hot
drawing us together in this room

but nothing, we have nothing else
save the empty bottles that we generate
in a vain attempt to subdue the anger
that lies between us even now

is this enough to keep us together
where less is enough to drive us apart
so I wonder why we stay in bad grace
scared of the loneliness that we might face …

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