You linger in doorways

Uncomfortably

It seems to me that always

You're about to leave.

Roll corner bedsheets off my bed

Press eyeballs up against eyelids

The problem with being fucked like you hate it

Is it's hard not to be convinced

That I, eulogy, the world famous satire

Oh please, just let me live.

Your fingers dig into my lap

Baptise your anger, then fall back to back.

If I could rewind the time

I'd stay there in england

We'd have a glass of wine

And watch fatal car crash compilations

All I can see is wasted opportunity

All I can be is a diagram for desperation.

Want to enjoy sad music

But it's all with the same context

Words they weave and how they choose to use it

Someone else wronged the subject

I wish I'd be the one who's hurt indignantly

But I can see the only one who's hurt someone is me.