fascinatingly fatal

the game of life

i have never been one for games.
this love was losing,
and i've been too competitive
for my own good.
violent delights
with violent ends
that never manifested in you like they did me.
each play feels like my last,
i wish it could be
our game has gone too long
and the plays have only gotten more filthy
i have run out of the little luck i had.
i will have no good roll,
no winning hand
my win is seen in another day in love
another week spent together,
another month gone by.
we will keep playing
and playing
and playing.

our love is endless
and we are forever.
i am so lucky to play with you,
and you are so lucky to cheat as you do
i am not slick and i do not count cards,
but i count our days and i slickly lie.
how good i have become,
how much all your practice has helped.
there is no cause to read
the rule book when i can't even identify
what game we're playing
is it even the same as the beginning?
how i wish to change characters,
i will never be the heroine
and i am far too beaten to be your sidekick
beaten and bruised and how i ache for a win
i will bluff and bluff
and channel my inner you
my heart may be weak,
but my poker face is strong
i am not a loser- i swear it.
but i am not a winner
and this eternity of pretend
(your favorite game)
has become exhausting
we are at a standstill
our money is counted
we
have both
folded
our treacherous act of pretend has taken a bow,
and yet you still win
we can't all be winners,
it's not like i had much
left
to
lose
anyways.