They say your past lovers
shape your future tastes,
and I'd be fraught with a dilemma
if it were true,
because I cannot afford to love
another man like the last two.
I'm not even wrong
wake up each morning
and find a new reason to
love yourself again
loving you did hurt,
but I didn't know it would
cost me my own heart
I can’t help but remember the night where everything ended.
The make up running down your face.
The clocking stating that it’s 2 AM.
The door of my cheap apartment room closing as I watched you left.
It’s 2 years later and I’m still in the same apartment room.
Instead of me remembering,
I drink and I forget.
But I slowly begin to realize.
S t a r t s
And I can’t seem to put the pieces back together.
I wake up and it’s all bleak.
It hits me like shattered glass.
It comes in fragments.
But I’m okay with this.
Because I remember the night it all ended.
Your makeup running down your face.
The clock stating that it’s 2 AM.
You leaving my cheap apartment.
And me staying there.
Just to stay.
You would finally come home.
if water was mood
anxiety's a quake that
there's a thin white line
between "glad because of it"
and "sad without it"