Bedroom eyes, shallow grave.
Thinking too much, feeling too little.
Stomach churning, heart burning.
Idealizing made you a fool.
Stories were a bust.
Your heart was busted.
When timing splits, but your body aches.
Thanking 'God' for your mistakes.
We're a little too old to break.
(so, you thought)
You dreamed of ease;
perfection in the simplest sense.
Now, you're falling apart at the seams.
But you're thinking its his fault you can't breathe.
How could that be ?
You were the sleaze.