Grow Old

This wasn’t supposed to be external

But it seems I’ve made a mess

This wasn’t meant to be special

Now its nagging me confess

Don’t talk to me

I could improvise solutions

I could try to reframe

Until I’m left with your admission

That I’m not all there is to blame

I could lie to be gentle

We will never be the same

The more adamant I am that it’s the surface

The more the walls begin to flake

Don’t talk to me

Don’t talk to me

Keeping count

As if the hurt could balance

Don’t walk with me

Your dirty feet are obvious

And how could you brag confidence

A willing keen participant

In rolling waves of incidents

You’ve made your bed now sleep in it you prince

They would’ve flared out like summer

Just some pictures I could keep

Your memory’s inventive

I won’t ever fall asleep

And now I’m sorry for explaining

How you fucked it up again

Now I’m watching you backpedal

I wasn’t supposed to feel ashamed