You laugh and you play
pay to drink and get laid,
sit in church pews to pray,
then go out the next day
to sin again, sinking in
dry crusted skin,
drunk and dehydrating.

You think you are cute
but you act like a fool.
You think that your smart,
but all I see is a rusted tool.

You pick up a bad boy
then commit to his abuse
and defend him again and again
after all of the beatings,
say I don’t understand,
proclaim to your friends
“I know he is a good man.”

Tears scratch the surface
of your pain and confusion,
feel like he’s been using
but you only see that
after the he leaves you,
no shows, no calls back,
no texts, so no more illusions.

Then you cry why,
and no one has the heart
to point to the part
that you played
in this play
that you perform on repeat;

This time, the last time,
and the next time around
you ball why me
then disagree
with the truths other see
when they tried to warn you
up front.