you tore me away from reality
with simple sentences
and idiotic jokes

you made me forget
everything

I didn't know what to think

or what to do with myself.

I guess I just ended up becoming yours.

now you've broken
everything

you've broken everything and you expect me to pick up the pieces

I will
I can guarantee that

but I can't guarantee that I will find all of the pieces

some will be lost,

maybe even broken smaller.  

some will have been stolen,

by nightly visits or maybe
close relatives

and I know we might be able to get them back but

I don't want to scrape my hands picking up the glass that you broke

I don't want to work for something and go against people while you're sitting in your high chair waiting for some gratification

I don't want my blood all over your floor
when I know you're not even going to help

I don't want to feel
guilty
or vulnerable
when we talk

but I guess that's how it goes

because humans have needs that need to be fulfilled

no matter how hard it is for someone else to fulfil it for them.