the love letters you sent are all crumpled in my waste bin,
i didn't want to leave no memories lurking—
around, like haunting ghosts,
i know i said i don't believe in demons,
but that don't mean i won't take precautions,
cause i know the lengths an heartbroken woman could go to exert vengeance.
even though you set fire to my world back in the day,
i had to set fire to our memories and let it burn into hay,
and i tossed you aside, like a cigarette into an ash tray,
even though you charged me up with glee like a drug,
i had to squash your thoughts like an annoying bug,
and i used you and dumped you, like a worn-out rug.
our relationship didn't have no warranty,
we can't be rebooting or restarting our journey,
now's the time to move on, and yet i'm here hanging on—
to the box of our memories, it's not that deep i just hate packing.
it's not that deep i just hate packing,
it's not that deep i just hate packing,
it's not that deep i just hate packing,
it's not that deep i just hate packing,
this mantra i keep repeating to myself every evening,
before i close my eyes and succumb to the haunting nightmares of losing you.
could i have tried to be a better person?
did i refuse to upgrade my hardware into something more soft and compassionate?
into someone more caring and affectionate?
i don't miss you, i just have a conscience,
karma could be a bitch warming up for payback,
that's what i'm terrified about, it's not like i want you back.
i'm doing way better since you left,
no more phone calls around the clock monitoring me,
no more creepy friends around the block stalking me,
no more hassling of where our relationship is going,
that was the main reason why it all had to end,
why couldn't you just simply exist in the moment?
why did you always have to constantly fret,
about the intensity of my love, what mattered was that i truly loved.
our relationship didn't have no liberty,
i was restricted, bottled up emotions and fumed like a chimney,
i wanted to be free, cause the chains were suffocating,
and it had to be you who was wearing me out, it couldn't be my own fault right?
it had to be you who was wearing me out,
it had to be you who was wearing me out,
it had to be you who was wearing me out,
it had to be you who was wearing me out,
this mantra i keep repeating to myself every morning,
before i get up from bed and go about my empty days without you.
YOU ARE READING
musings of a jaded poet
Poetrylike the title implies, 'musings of a jaded poet', comes from a jaded, hurt heart but it'd be folly to think this album is all doom and gloom. before the dark, there was light and it's a journey-a tale that needs to be told. the tragedy of how this...
