Is it that difficult, that much of a task
to think of me and text back?
Is your lifestyle so complex, that you cannot even spare a sec
Because it seems to be me giving. giving
And then I give some more
But you treat my existence as a chore
Do you wait for me to text?
Do you lay up in your bed, rereading the messages sent?
How much space do I consume in your head?
For me, it is easy to see the juxtaposition
I never thought you would put me in this position
To have to beg and plea for your attention on me
So I just move on like I usually do because everything good has to fall apart
So I embrace the impermanence of it all
