It’s not me, It’s you.
It always was,
And how could I be surprised?

All along, it was you.
Only you, no one else.

Now all that’s left is   me.

Broken as ever.
With eyes still swollen from the night before,
Tear stained cheeks,
And an epiphany in my mind.

Maybe, It was me.
Or you.
Or us.

But eventually it was no one.

It was the empty spaces in your   speech.
It was the stutter in your breath.
It was you.

It was the missed calls.
It was the arguments.
It was me.

Or maybe   it   was  us.
Slowly    
         But
      Surely
                  Falling         (apart).