maybe neither of us are good people
and maybe i should have seen it coming
but it’s okay, for now
to be grateful for things like
sleeping through the night again,
for waking up in my own bed
again
and aren’t you glad
i stopped driving by your
house in the middle of the night?
anyway,
there is nothing pure about the way i handled this

the truth is, i’ve spent too long romanticizing your loss
and too little time on how filthy your hands are,
touching anyone you please
with no regard for the fallout,
the consequences of a boy who can’t decide what he wants fast enough
to spare anyone pain.
you couldn’t even articulate the reasons
why you left me
and so i have no one to blame but myself:
this body you loved was not enough,
this mind, the girl (terrified) crouched at the controls
was not enough for you;
the consequences being
she threw herself at the first person who wanted her
because feeling wanted was the only way
to forget

and you might think you’ve got it all under control now,
a pristine life: job, car, family, girlfriend
but don’t think about the body of the girl you used to love
buried on the side of the highway
and the months and months of memories
you will not touch –
and i won’t think about
all the times i was
waking up in another man’s bed
because i wanted him to be you so badly
i left my dignity out of the deal

just love; just mess, trying
i can’t believe anyone was surprised