I poured the last shred of myself into getting you back
Dredged the pit and found the last scrap of pride
Withered but worthy of words
Silence. Silence. Silence.
Now I feel absurd.
And I have to question this need for your presence.
This scramble to make you see.
Because when I have you it is not joy in my heart
I am always waiting for you to cast your shadow on my face
For you to spit me out without swallowing.
A connoisseur of vintage whines.
Love me. Love me. Love me.
Ughhh I hate myself more than you could.
Better maybe to stay shut up.
Shut me out.
I think I would.