The Roomby Timothy R. Yates
The room smelled like death.I only left it to score or take a leakOr peer in the fridge for a long whileBefore deciding to do another shot.My world had shrunk into the roomLeaving me breathless and alertFor things that never occurred.
She shared that room with me.We fought most all the time becauseOur habits could never quite agree asWe lied to each other about what truth was.Day in and day outIt turned out to be bloody toilet paper,Arguments over wants and needs.
Death was such a tease in that room,Worse than she was with her lies and deceits.Transfixed, tantalized, I split my affectionBetween my lover and death.Our dance macabre was nothing moreThan a pitiful joke that backfiredInto a room that smelled like death.



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