Turn Back

I stand in the pouring rain
with an enveloping sense
of the sardonic
and iconoclastic irony
of that which exists
inside and out
i refuse to believe
and refuse to secede
the principles of that which
give life, meaning, and
being

try me
buy me
twist me
take me out (like garbage)

I'm the spoiled
piece of luxury that
you cannot afford much longer

as i mellow
luxuriously
inhaling sharply on my cig
i relish every tainted breath
of love that fills my lungs
with velvet saturation
amorously anxious
i pause
for it's not quite
my time

instead i'll choose
erroneously,
derided i'll turn back.