Alive people are a lot worse
Than dead people.

The dead are finally at rest
While we spend our time
Trying to be.

I loved you with everything I had,
and you loved me with limits.
I loved you with your messy hair,
and how you made me forget.
You could never say the words
that you really meant.

I loved you with everything I had,
and you loved me with limits.
I told you all my secrets,
all the things I never said.
That same night you said you loved me,
but you wouldn't come to bed.

It's been a while, and you're the same
except your hair is different.
I knew right then I loved you still,
it shook me to the bone.

"I liked your messy hair better."

All too well rehearsed, you said
"It was just too difficult to take care of."

And I knew why I was sleeping alone.

I am your panic room,
constant and
never changing.
You built me up
for when you're breaking.

I am your panic room,
your last resort,
but always here
when you decide you need me.

When you don't need me,
you put me on a shelf
with your dusty trophies
you never really earned,
and antiques
you never took care of.

I'm up front, visible,
easy to reach
at your convenience.
But I know you would rather
take what you need from
your precious china cabinet.

Just know that when you fumble,
when you slip up,
and when you stumble,
your precious china will break.
But I will still be here.