I'm not one to hold on,
when I know that I am being let go.

Don't cry and act like I've wronged you,
because you know that's not right.

When I reached out for you countless times
you burrowed deeper into the mud,
and I do not chase crayfish,
because we are not crayfish.

Pretend that I am evil and malicious,
but you know that you can only act that way.

I have a heart and it doesn't lie,
even when it finds a mattress of magpies.

I never had intentions to get you in bed,
I just wanted you to come inside
for some coffee and some sober.

I cannot speed up like a high contrast mix,
I cannot slow down chopped and *******,
I can only operate on what my heart feels
and what your heart tells it to feel.

And your heart is telling me to move on,
to churn on the exit ramps.

I have not wronged you in the right way,
or righted you in the wrong way.

Is caring about you the next left?
Is that where the houses knock their feet
on the concrete and the guardrail
at the dead end?

If so, hate me for good,
**** the engine
and idle with your lips on the guardrail.