text me at 2 a.m., like you’re doing me a favor,
your words are sugar-coated with a bitter flavor.
you say you’re bored, i say im fine,
although, we both know
we’re tiptoeing on a dangerous line.
your love is a puzzle with a missing piece,
keeps me searching for a corner,
that will never be complete.
you want me close,
then push me away,
its a foreplay in reverse,
and i hate the game we play.
call it a stalemate, or just a delay?
kept me on the board but never let me play.
sitting, still, watching me decay,
letting you kill me day after day.
im too much for you, but not enough to stay,
i wish you’d admit you don’t care…
its really not that fucking hard to say.
you don’t want me, but you don’t want me gone,
im the backup plan you keep stringing along.
im tired of half-truths and fake confessions,
im a placeholder for your next obsession.
your apologies feel more like a routine,
like a script, to keep your conscience clean.
you smile like you’re innocent,
but it’s all a lie,
a tangled little noose you tie
every time you come by.
not your savior, not your saint,
just a canvas for your self-restraint.
you want chaos without the mess,
you think im impressed but i want respect
don’t want me, but you don’t want me free,
twisted kind of love i don’t want to believe.
sick of half-truths and fucked intentions,
brain game made for pure deception.
wrote the rules with false information,
every spin was masking my perception,
every move was a cheated direction,
a losing game that only gave depression.
call me when you’re drunk,
i know the drill,
you love the thrill
of breaking what you’ll never rebuild.
im the safety net you keep pulling tight,
but im done aching inside every night.
so text me at 2 a.m. if it makes you feel brave,
but im over playing the role of the one you “almost” saved.
no more half-truths, no more little lies,
im walking away before you get to say goodbye.
im over it
11/23/2024
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