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Sickest Form of Suicide.

Are you high on love
again, my old,
estranged friend?

Still blind
to your insides, shooting
for last through the role
of the nice guy,

your own demise?

No judgment here.
I know all too damned well
that the oldest habits
are the hardest to break,

and I’m surely no expert
when it comes to solutions…

Still, this time,
if you want it to last,
why not just try and go
a different road?

Don’t wait
for her to try to carve
her way in
and through just to pry

open the can of worms you are.
Don’t just leave it to her:

be open
and honest
from the beginning.

Anything less
is just false advertising:

cruelest con, most self-serving,
self-destructive deception
one could hope
to weave.

Bait and switch

just so she leaves
you could and empty,

serving to justify
your cyclonic descent
towards the sickest
form of suicide.

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