I can’t decide if I was right or wrong for giving up and shutting you out.
We both know you ****** up,
and we both know that I’m terrible at forgiving,
and even though I said, “I’m fine,”
you know better than I do that it was just another defense
I built back for myself so you didn’t have to feel bad
and I didn’t have to feel forced into trying steer us away from the cliff,
even though you kept clawing your way towards the edge–
dragging me along as if I were some sycophantic, conjoined-twin trophy.