no/YES

She disagrees. He watches the dissonance develop behind her eyes. She really does not. He really does. She really cannot. He really must. She doesn't know why. He has never been more certain. She cannot focus on anything. He has it all planned out in a 5-tier diagram. She's forgotten her diaphragm. He is totally in for free fun loving diving. She's a dry creature of the air. He cannot argue. She cannot agree. He is so annoying. She thinks he is all too sweet. He cannot betray her. She cannot believe. He has never met her. She's been with him all along. He cannot think complex. She cannot live straight. He cannot be honest. She cannot be dead.

to my secret

i am persistent and i will hold your hand beyond the acceptable after death.
i am persistent because you showed me i am by guiding my hand into yours and asking me not to let go.
i am persistent because it is the only way i know how to be and the only way i think is right to be.
goodbye

group singing

drop.
drop it.
drop your habit/ drop the jokes, the accusations/
false crap/false expectations/cracking up with shock and embarrassment/ falsified by you not being honest.
i said drop this straight into the cracked bin filled with rubbish and ridiculous explanations nobody asked for.
drop it like it's yesteday's dinner's carcass eaten by the foxes/wipe your arse and swipe your lip and wash your hands in between.
crack- an egg into the pan of ideology. your baby, safely kept in these earthquake hands, riddled with parkinsons and i won't-
drop it. i promise i'm working my hardest but forgetfulness goes with the age and forgetting your apology or  lack of thereof is something i am prone to, in between my cracking sessions of being hilarious for and audience to/ my own sole royal jester. I will hit the wall of repetition quickly and drop the pace to a minimum, whilst the freshly lacquered expectations surface seems to be cracking from the antilogy between my personalities.
I drop my mug of tea and apologise, quickly. To whom?
Something I learnt about us and never revealed to talk about, once noticed how the cracks in our relations were growing deeper and worried it would be our catalyst if i dropped the self-accusatory bomb.
I denied to myself any involvement with risks and testing out hypotheses and the like.
I denied you the joy of clapping your hands to the jovial music, or cracking a whip up an alpine bucolic landscape.
Dropped it with my fair hands. the shakey ones that didn't drop your baby a few lines ago. I dug a little puddle into the damp soil and carefully placed my secret stash of crack and tat and covered with a few hasty kicked-in bits of more mud.
The rain revealed my appalling craftsmanship. Perhaps intentionally, to reveal i am a two-faced hypocrite.
I cracked up. As if that was a secret from you in the first place. We both knew what we signed up for. We cliched our arses off in those first few overnight chats, mildly being electrocuted by bad computer wiring and with sore eyes and cracked yellowing lips from the badly rolled fags, whilst right hand was still insisting on spelling 'the' as 'teh'.
Gleeful and courteous and courting with the subtlety of ten thousand bagpipe students attempting to twinkle your star, for the very first time. With that came the exchange of the facts. In the box. The one with the embarrassing trivia and finger pointing and shut-the-fuck-ups and rosy cheeks and crossed eyes.
So what's the scoop. Tell me what's the truth.
Drop. Drop it.
Double Drop it to ascertain immediate effect.
Drop the stilleto so it acts like a knife. and finish this.