Your private conversations.
Your late at night
affairs.
The  Lipstick on your Collar
is a shade I do not
wear.

The hours that you're absent.
The smell of new,
calogne.
The way you look right through me.
The changes in your
tone.

This sticky situation.
This no way turn
around.
The slight smell of her perfume.
The  condemns that
I found.

And yes 
this means we're finished.
And yes
this means we're done.

I'd rather be
your nothing
if  I can't be
the one.

I'm tired of second guessing
so I no longer
care
that the lipstick on your collar
is a shade I do
not wear.