sometimes, when what you feel is not enough,
when the getting there is irresponsibly tough,
and the truth being called is your own bluff,
fake, like a dead diamond in the rough,
stand still and wait for the other head to drop,
hover, linger, but don't aim for the bad cop,
reveal the lovely little doll on tippity top,
and watch her burn,
like hydrogen,
with a pop.