Spineless

Something in my glass tastes like misery and I wonder –

Maybe the green colored glasses have gotten under my skin.

All the lights are emerald, and maybe I’m the one you wanted?

Maybe I’m the missing safety pin?

***

Promises are cheap, betrayal is priceless –

Honey, I’ll never sell the stab wounds in my back.

(Ironic, of course, they came from someone who’s spineless.)

But my love for you was low-cost so I burned the almanac.