Like trying to find where you'd put all your ****
days after cleaning up the place
while you were drunk,
I've been attempting to relocate
the various pieces of my forgotten heart.

I warned her at the start.

"Let's take it slow,
because I don't even know
if I can still do this,
after being alone for so long."

Lately, I've been stressed.
Hard-pressed to convey how I feel,
because all I feel is immense pressure to suddenly perform this boyfriend role.

Even though,
for the first time in what feels like forever,
I'm the one in control.
The scales are finally tipped in my favor.

But I take no solace in the fact
that the shoe is on the other foot,
because the longer this goes on,
the harder it is to ignore,
that when it comes to this kind of thing,
someone always gets hurt.