You have fare-welled and planned on never coming back,
And said you knew your place and mind.
You have come back so intact, and so sure that you will stay,
And tell me you’re sorry. Well, It’s fine.
You have yelled and picked apart parts of me unpickable by others,
And you’ve tied our love into knots.
You have said such sweet things and refuse you’ll ever raise your voice again
And say your tongue was just caught.
You become oblivious to obvious things and lie about it truly,
And clear your throat afterwards to confess.
You sit and sigh and groan and complain when you seem satisfied,
And you tell me I’m much more when I’m much less
You scatter out problems and lay them out flat and you promise,
That you’ll solve them. But I always do.
You forgive and say you’ll forget, but you hold it against me,
And I sit while you hold grudges and feel blue.
You croak and hold things away from me, saying you’ve said everything,
But things in your head have begun collecting dust
You seek new ways out, new roads to follow, but you don’t choose one,
You merely sit in the dew, and rust.