Glass for looking,
and I saw myself in it.
I wanted to write something real **** poetic,
But your face kept popping up in my head
and I had no good words for the feeling it gave me.
I'm the Queen of Regret.
And that doesn't make you proud,
doesn't make you stay steady.
My guilt would pull us both down because it's
just that heavy.
And I have been sleeping underneath it for far too long.
What have you brought me?
Aside from being happy,
which is all I have ever really been asking.
You've done so well and I am so tired of
beating this dead horse.
Broken and ****** and bashful,
closed off like every "I love you"s a mouthful.
And people ask me how we're doing and I say
"I'm doing fine" which isn't a lie the way it used to be.
You got used to me.
As I've been used to second guessing.
Used to the mess we let ourselves step in.
Well adjusted to the ways
in which we can't communicate.
I allowed for more time,
you allow for more stays.
But I still can't shake that it's
all the same
and it's been a ******* year.
Why do I still feel like i'm wasting it here?