Run

Run
I mistook the ashtray for the jewelry bowl –
  Flicking the messy remains    of     myself all over
 the tennis bracelet
That you clasped around my neck earlier,
     And you told me I looked pretty.
With the sunlight beaming through the windows
Of your bedroom where blank walls and medicine balls
Can still look beautiful.
We put on a show for the neighbors
who have always been there,
But you never cared to know.
You’d rather watch me while I try on your clothes,
With the vintage mirror spread across your lap,
And powder   dripping      from your nose.    
   I think i fucked up that bracelet;
the one thing that was your favorite.
  in your eyes now I am as good  a   fool,
The All-American, the greatest of them all –
For I cannot see myself out when the time has come,
   And I cannot even do what I am best at—
            Run.