Some bad relationships
Are
Like
Altitude sickness
It’s insipid and sneaky
You know something isn’t right
And
You can’t quite put your finger on it
But
Something ain’t right
Your Holmes intuition
Is telling you
To
Get back to base camp
But the Watson
In you
Says
Keep
Climbing.
You tell your Sherpa you aren’t well
Oh yes,
And
A storm is coming…
But the lead guide
Says
“We’re heading to the summit!”
Next thing you know,
Tethered to your trusted companion,
You are tumbling
Into
The abyss
Left hanging
Upside down
In an ice cave
Slowly freezing to death.
You would kick yourself if you could move your legs
Because you saw the signs:
You had a really bad headache
But
That ego of yours wanted the summit
Too.
What’s that?
The guide un-clipped himself before
He
Hit
The
Cave?
Saved his own ass?
He’s posing for Vanity Fair?
What was it I said before?
“get to Hadrian’s Wall and climb over it for Narcissus is his own murderer.”
Well I didn’t heed my warning did I?
Now I’m a
Human
Popsicle.

Knucklehead.