I want this to be the last letter I ever write you my lover
I'm tired
I've written about a dozen letters to the moon complaining of all
these chest pains and honestly it's getting ridiculous no one reads
them,  they just sit here accumulating evidence of a romance so
twisted the one lover can't even spell the others name with out
quivering with a certain uncertainty
These letters dont  mean a thing
I don't know why I keep writing them,  they're strange and unintelligent things
And I'll be ****** if the last thing I ever do is write about a man
who is my anchor , keeping me anchored which is ironically insane
considering an anchor is the very thing that sinks you down to the
very bottom
I'm very confused and we're very complicated
I can hardly decipher which one of us is the ship and which the anchor

I realize that I'm not as kind and innocent as I'd like to think I am
I've done ****** things just as you my king
And it's a shame I like to pretend otherwise
But not as shameful as being unable to tell whether I'm the hero or
the villain in our situation , and that's just another unpleasant
thing about us I'm never writing about again.