it's another rainy day in the middle of may,
we lay in bed and talk about the way he can make everything change in an instant.
this cycle is consistent,
you fall for his tactics endlessly and I watch you get thrown to the side like a toy a child no longer wants to play with.
and it's the fifth time in a month or so,
you're distraught and it's no big surprise.
I know you've come down from another one of your epic highs,
he used to trace along your thighs.
you feel violated and broken,
but you are not the product of his lovelorn life and I cannot allow you to think of yourself in such a low standard manner.
you are the beacon of hope he will wish he held onto,
all the future victims will eventually be gone too.
men do not relentlessly torture your feelings,
boys do.