Irregular Days

On Monday
I Gave Up
On every stupid little thing
Because that’s
so easy
Compared to giving up on us specifically.

I charted
All your seas
But I still sank into the deep
When I
Dove right in
The spot your heart was supposed to be

Silly me. Silly me.
I believed in myself for the very first time
and all
That I got
Was my lungs full of water and my wounds all full of salt

This is Killing me. Killing me.
But at least now you are free
To do whatever the fuck you want
I hope that’s really all you need

But I need you like an adjective needs a noun.
We’re better together but you are fine on your own.
But I’m so useless without you to give me purpose.
To guide me home.
But oh-fucking-well, at least you can die alone.

Or whatever it was you said you wanted.

Filed under:
Lyrical Poetry, Misc by Tawny