Three

keep me out of your game

under my breath i curse your name

while busy keeping score 

i yawn at your bore

certain you don’t even know me

i’ll count to three.

two are the times we’ve discovered 

what we’ve recovered

can be not be to be

can’t see eye to eye, can’t agree

i’ll count to three.

one is the last step on the glass

that lets you be my tear gas

when i no longer breathe

as you lie through your teeth

kiss me goodbye, hang me up to dry

i won’t comply, no not this time.