All too often again

I end up spending my days with the same friend

One who not many understand

But in my heart he fits in with my plans.

His face stares cold

His voice flat no expression could hold

His words, too crisp to fold

His message, too clear to be told.

I'm breaking fast over ice cold coffee

His pleasant stores always taunt me

Of a promise of something greater to see

So unattainably easy to reach.

I'm lunching out with sick fantasies

Over things he could do to me

And for me, with no aggression or please

If I remove the oxygen to breathe.

I'm dining on his words echoing in my head

Thinking of the dessert of my bloodshed

And all the great things he said

And wanting him so desperately in bed.

I'm sleeping with the him of my days

He who turns the blue sky gray

And listening to what he always seems to say

And knowing id give in the very next day.

The gun in my pocket speaks volumes.