a cross to stick to

january holds me at a distance
and all last year's apples and are bland
not that anyone's still shopping around       (never settle)
up the hill, peddling:
are you still alive?
[retraction]
yes, but not wanting to suffer your grand damme's fate

in truth, your vision
seems still skewed to me

perhaps being honest in this way has also left me prey to you
on the prowl again, pacing
even that shot at altruism was a battle
masked
and i hate your name.
despite best intentions, the concern patronizes, picks at old wounds
and our back handed aggressions continue as
you plunge deep into my guts that old enemy "addiction"