It's hard these days
to get me through,
This me, this us,
You know it too:
No room for trust
or for goodbyes
For my death I
cannot compromise
with yours,
or hers,
"If she existed"
But she does -
She still takes
all your nights.
And me?
As if I ever mattered
to your world,
or hers -
No room for me.