The Affair

He's in there with her. Again.

And it's not like they're alone with the privacy of darkness cloaking their skin.

They're stark naked in their affair

in front of everyone. They

share this joke with my family and friends then

he comes out of the room

and hugs me

- her perfume still stinking up his shirt where she hugged him,

correction: where she choked him in her charms.

Can you believe he has the audacity to kiss me

- her fiery dragon breath still

slowly burning his lips with licks of smoke. He

says they're helping him cope with life's "unfair" lows. He

says she's the only one

that can get him high enough to climb to cloud ten,

let nine catch him, then

drift until they search for ecstasy again

(because it's never as easy as the first time).

It takes more breath,

more death of time.

And this time as he unwinds, gets into his "zone",

for the second time in fifteen minutes

he conscientiously leaves me alone with a heart

anchored in a sea of pain

and memories

of him navigating this vessel to contentment

I think I meant to tell him that I'm leaving...

meant to give him an ultimatum:

either me, or her,

either we work through this or

with one final kiss I'll leave him to his growing regret and self-proclaimed savior:

Mary, taking the place of Jesus.

I meant to tell him

I come second to no one;

especially not some

stinky-smelling bitch names Mary Jane

that everyone's passed around,

sold to the next slave,

and sucked dry until her essence gets them high enough

to HANG themselves

with a noose of narrow kush leaves

closing themselves in to

wrap around brain cells and brainwash our men and women

in filthy baths of ignorance, paranoia, and shame.

It's a shame I let it go on this long,

the affair.

A shame I let that siren seduce my significant other with

deceitful calls to a dreamy trance where

his nightmares reminiscent of his past reality haunt him beyond my reach.

But this is the rude awakening awakening you

from your enchantment.

Slave to her spell no more.

Let these words restore what slipped out of our grasps

with smoky exhales before I become your next ex,

hell, this is an ultimatum.

Either me or her.

either we work through this or

with one final kiss I'll leave you to your growing regret and self-proclaimed savior:

But I've one stipulation:

Shout it with surety if you choose her

so my heart won't be broken by the sounds of your

emphatic

footsteps

departing.