like a helpless captive, a distraught midwifennlike a libran husband and a capricorn wifenni turn to wine and whiskey and these cryptic songsnnmaybe i'm passive aggressive or maybe i'm wrongnnnnnnbut don't go yet, old lipstick, old cassettesnnclutter the carpet where my futile head rests nnand i'd explain it, but i've long-since dismissednnthe thought of vitality, you'll get nothing out of mennbut don't go yetnnnnnnand like a sore subject, objective pursuitnnlike a fearful me or an asinine younnand we avoid eye contact as i'm just dragged alongnnmaybe i should just grow up or maybe i'm wrongnnnnnnas soon as my eyes avert, more skin of alabasternnyou don't warn me before, you just devastate me afternnand like a dangling noose or like an endless seannwe both know how to love and i think you owe more to me