Late night- drunk text then you're calling me.
"I'm moving on"- you're stuck still stalling me.
But you can't take your cake and eat it.
Or lay quietly in the grave you made.

You're stuck still trying to claw me into the mud, saw me apart and keep me from feeling whole.

You're struck still,
How I left you stuck still.
Yet I let you **** still.

I quartered my cake and have a bite nightly,
When in your arms I'm held tightly,
I forget to hate you:
I forget that I'm the body you buried beneath a grave.
I still hope: that each other, we will save.