games we play

you got me twisted on tiptoes
around yeses and nos.
so pardon if i don’t know
which way to look
when you tell this chicken
to cross the road.
and without a helmet,
armed only with
this slowly deteriorating steel frame
around my heart, i zoom across…
…zoom across because nobody warned me
about the red flags,
zoom across because nobody warned me
about the black flags,
zoom across because nobody warned me
about slowing down
at the hairpin turn of events,
zoom across because nobody warned me
about how much it still hurts
when you crash in something
that you thought was moving
slower than your average ride.
so maybe i should raise my white flag,
go hide somewhere far and dark,
take advantage of the time
when you’re counting down sheep
until you wake up and realize i’m gone.
i got quite the head start,
but i know you’ll come seeking still.
to what purpose, i still can’t say
because i know you’ll end up sinking
this battleship anyway. you always do.
because when all i needed was a jack
to boost me back aboard this 'ship,
i find no helping hand,
only a subtle demand
when you tell me to go fish.
and so i fish. i fish my way
through kings and jokers,
hoping the next card
will turn the river onto my favor,
but i just can never win against you.
you hold all the cards i want.
and until i can learn to fold, get up,
and just walk away from the table,
you will keep chipping away at me
until there’s nothing left
to challenge the next player.

you are definitely a cunning instructor.
you never taught me
the art of quitting while i’m ahead.