I'll sit in a dark blue room,
listening to the Smiths.

I'll hate every second of it;
each reminds me of you.

You're a coward, a user. An addiction chances are overdosed
Threw me away without a tilt at the waist.
Using me in-between what you believed real.

Not realizing I was clinging, grinding, rocking in hopes of you staying.
I have to laugh, thinking lust would turn into profound love
-make you stay.