I fall too easily.
It's hard not to when you are indecisive.

I don't have a favorite color
Or a favorite flower
Or a favorite number.

I love them all
I love too easily
And I change my mind too much

You're my favorite color right now,
My favorite flower,
My favorite number,
My favorite indecision.

Don't worry, it will change soon.

I’ll put your love into a box
One where only I have the key
When asked, “How do you open the box?”
I’ll smile and say, “It’s only for me”

My 20s weren’t good to me
My 20’s were bad
All my friends grew up
And I stayed sad

20 meltdowns
20 lies
20 mistakes

All this time passed by
And I continue to ache

I want to smoke.
It's all I can think about.
It's not the first time I've had these feelings.

I used to be an addict
To the fluttering high
Of nicotine.
Chain-smoking to fill the void.

I seem cool with a cigarette in my mouth.
I have social interactions with a stranger with a cigarette in my mouth.
I joke with coworkers on break with a cigarette in my mouth.
I get outside more with a cigarette in my mouth.

I'll die with a cigarette in my mouth.

Laughing in the face of fear
Crying when it’s all undone
I’m a sinner who love sinning
And you’re no fun

Did he want it to hurt?

When he trampled on every flower your planted in your heart's garden,
did he mean for it to be this painful?

It's soiled.
Everything.

Your mother is a mess.
She drinks until she can't speak
and smokes until she can't breathe.

She leaves voicemails on your phone that she won't remember the next day.
She slurs, "I love you."
"Why won't you call me?"
"I'm doing better now."

I remember it all.
How insecure you are with name-calling.
I slip and say something I regret,
you lash out like a hurt animal.
You were emotionally abused growing up.

So was I.
I am a mess.

You awoke in my dreams
I gave you a perfect world
And then arose to my own

Love is ego
Love is pain
Love is agony
Love is remorse
Love is wonderful
Love is tender
Love is pure
Love is you