Split seams on the dress of my daydreams.
No needle or thread in sight.
Where is the seamstress who'll fix this?
Why is she never here on time?
Lost on my way down the aisle.
Commit to a man I don't know anymore.
You don't get to sweep this under my veil.
You claim love but won't let me go.
I asked that you didn't tear my dress,
since it was my only protection from
the elements.
You agreed with me
but then snipped at the seams
when you said "Just trust me."
Was it all for your own pleasure?
To play with my own nerves.
You bought me a drink and played a sad song.
Then apologized for the miscommunication.

There was no miscommunication.