I’ve lost count
of the amount of times it’s come to this,
where we call it quits, then ignore the signs
and try to make this fit by doing something different,
clinging on to this piece of slowly unraveling string
as you deal me another blow,
knowing that as soon as I release my grip
you’ll blame my fall on letting go.
Like a person shouldn’t give up
on being treated like shit,
like there couldn’t possibly be
better versions of love.