I’m just that - your favorite pair of jeans, loose fitting at times when need be,
I’m your favorite worn-out shirt, snug in all the right places with faded colors that beam with familiarity.

I’m your decision - the good, the bad, the in between.
like failing, falling, magnets when the attraction is gone.

I tried to tell myself that it was fine,
Humbled and hollowed at the thought that you’d be mine.

I offered what I had it wasn’t much....it was everything.
I’m like your favorite song that just gets old as shoulders slump and you respond to the chorus cringing.

I’m the least of your worries, the let down was there from the start,
We’re false flames ignited, I’m just a stain mistaken for art.

I’m the deepness, the darkness the choice and your chore,
I’m the writhe, the angst, the agony - a cancer and nothing more.

There’s you. ******* there’s you, shining, wrecked, yet flawless,
I’m every mistake that’s ever been made, ashamed at the power you possess.

I’m your favorite quote, present, and reliable.
I’m a flame extinguished, burned out, a future not quite viable.

I’m your final missing piece, bent and broke,
Sawed off, devoured, with nothing more than missing strokes.

I’m your energy, fainting and forever fleeting,
I’m a backstory. A “what if”. A possibility that you may not ever be needing.