you called me today
and asked if we could not have deep conversations anymore.
then you asked me to define deep. and I didn't want to.
because that wasn't what I wanted.
but I've had to become submissive to you
and your stupid requests
all because of a card, with words of distress
with words of don't leave me and trust I'm here's
and you still act like you're 10
or so says my mom
and my therapist
and my doctor
and my teacher
and your best friend.
and that sounds mean
but honestly it's true
I connect with him better than you
but i swear i won't sleep with him
i wont **** him up
because I'll lose you already
so who ******* cares?
cause in a month I'll be gone
and you can forget
so you'll feel okay and I'll waste away
because again, you act like you're 10.
which is probably why Henry lets you complain
cause he's just the same
and you take your coffee with daily suicide threats
that I freak out about and you forget.
cause I've been in a pysch ward,
but not in your head,
but I promise you're better than restraints on a bed
just maybe not always
cause sometimes you're mean
and can't come to terms with the fact
that not everyone wants to worship you
or talk to you or hear you
or maybe even see you.
but you wouldn't know
cause you live in a bubble.
you're always safe
you're cared for,
so you'll turn around,
and
slam
the
door.