I know it was mostly me, I asked too much
you gave everything, still.
I apologise, I could not handle your particular brand of crazy
or your self-righteous attitude.
It was always something I'd said or done
and it gave me thrills to wind you up.

Then you snapped, slapping and choking
over a question about a film.
I screamed so loud that your father woke up.
He didn't do a **** thing.

Stranded in a strange city, broke and phoneless
I stayed.

You spent the night on the couch while I cried
alone in your bed.
We fought again the next morning
over the busted radio in your ******* car.
You slammed the breaks and smashed my head
and I knew then that I did not love you
still, I stayed.
for a week or two
and then I called it quits,

I still don't blame you,
because *I stayed