should i let him walk away

so irritatingly smug,

thinking he’s got me all figured out

and he knows me inside out, even

better than i know myself ? –

or should i snatch away the last word

as always,

scrabbling for something to say

and ending up almost compulsively honest

(though looking back i can never decide whether

or not

i really meant it),

and shooting words like shrapnel,

half-hoping that i miss,

then feeling that horrible vindictive pleasure mixed with guilt

when i hit -bull’s-eye-

right.on.target

(and i think there’s hurt in his eyes this time)