The Last Time

Being the "other woman"

You say for the last time
you're ready to go.
It's not my funeral
but I cry for your loss.

Acidic tears burn with resentment.

I say for the last time
I'm ready to go.
I slip you a coy glance.
You're guilty and you've lost it all.

To save you the trouble,
leave me quiet and bitter.
My blood pressure climbs
and warms me with anxiety.

I swallow my heart
as we ignore reason and conscience.
Just before I suffocate,
you remind me how to breathe.