lately all i have to come home to are 'i told you sos'
i climb into bed, fetal position and they cling to my back and loudly whisper in my ears,
'what did you expect, why did you move of course that was never going to turn into anything'
and i don't ask the i told you sos to stop saying i told you so
This is my bed. I made it. So i'll have to lay in it
but i swear some days it's like someone's made it for me and i still have to lay in it.
These are all excuses because you told me so
and i never listen because i'm always hoping your i told you sos will be wrong
they were right tonight and i held my own hand as my stomach snapped into two and i cried a cry so deep i felt it in my womb and i said yes you were right it wasn't gonna work
yes you were right
it wasn't good enough and my eyes dry shut stained with this liquid that's become so familiar
yes you were right
what was i thinking

what was i thinking