I guess we grew like weathered flowers
And I guess I grew a little bit taller
A little bit faster
A little bit more soaked in your potion
Than you were in mine.
And it sometimes hurts to know you’re not that bothered
And other times it angers to know this was only for a season
Little did I know the season would sizzle
But be short lived
And little did I know it wasn’t quite going to work
Past the months of bronzing and barbecuing.
And I gave a piece of myself to you
Opened my doors wide and beckoned you in
And I’m glad I did
Despite the attachment I formed
Like an octopus clinging to your legs
Suckling on your teet
Stuck to your words which you threw so spaghetti like at my walls
They stayed there stuck
(They still are now)
A reminder of what’s possible
And what may be better than you.
talking to my pillow. 