I like it    I don't like it

the answer came like a shot in the back while you
were running from your lesson, which might explain
why years later all you could remember was the
terror of the question. plus, you weren't
listening hard, you were stockpiling canned goods
and making a bomb shelter of our basement. and i
can't believe you let the moral go by while you
were soaking in the product placement. and where
was your conscience? where was your consciousness?
and where did you put all those letters that you
wrote to yourself but could not address? yeah, i'm
a good kisser, and you're a fast learner, and that
kind of thing could float us for a pretty long
time. and then one day, you'd realized you've
memorized my phone number, and you'll call it and
find it's a disconnected line. cuz i got tossed
out the window of love's el camino and i shattered
into a shower of sparks on the curb. you were
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smoking me weren't you between your yellow
fingers, you just inhaled and exhaled without
saying a word. where was your conscience? where
was your consciousness? and what did you do with
all those letters you wrote to yourself but could
not address? there's a smorgasbord of unspoken
poisons, the whole childhood of potions that are
all bottled up, and so one by one i am dusting off
labels, i am uncorking bottles and i am filling up
cups. go ahead and have a taste of your own
medicine. here i'll have a taste of mine, but
first lets toast to the lists that we hold in our
fists of the things that we promised to do
differently next time. cuz the answer came like a
shot in the back while you ran from your lesson
which might explain why years later all you could
remember the terror of the question. cause i'm not
listening to you anymore. my head is too sore and
my heart's perforated and i am mired in the marrow
of my "well ain't that funny?" bone, learning how
to be alone and devastated. where was my
conscience? where was my consciousness? and where
do i put all these letters that i wrote to myself
but could not address?