It Comes For Me

I detest the taste of it

it's unpleasant aroma set before me
wanting to turn away and ask for a replacement
reheat it to a more golden brown crust
or
just up and demand a refund
walking away
with the intent on providing the most adverse review on social media
regaining my senses
writing each word with malicious intent
regretting nothing
monitoring for the many
“likes”
I am sure to follow

not supposed to hate
not what I was taught yesterday
right after some proverbial golden rule thing
but 
it touches a nerve
itches where I can’t properly contort my elbows
and reach that spot with sharpened jungle fingernails

I look it in the eye
after the fact
after the screams
after the moans
dissatisfied
what was I thinking at the time?
cigarette smoke clears from the darkened room
realizing the choice wasn’t mine
a poor hand of spades
and I had to play it
endure it
hoping my skill and guile would get me through to the next hand
or a different partner
or a different dealer

so
it now finds itself at the tip of my pen
an anguished climax stained in black and white verbiage
sitting alone with tears
and fears
knowing it will come again
no knock on the door
always catching me in the most compromising positions

it haunts me
because it knows it can

the inevitable