The tender girl had qualms with none
Detatched, there was nothing for the son
Forced to backtrack whilist rolling downhill
Flashing images remain
Of that private, idealistic mill
So I called her name
In the Nether Realm, she screamed
Yes, she is a hard one to please
Especially when she sees
One going through the motions
Rotations into false vocations

So tell me
What was your question again?

sometimes i am embarrassed that i fell for you
so quickly,
through cryptic tongues and
limited interactions.

i fell for you the way ketchup
falls from the bottle.
i beat it until it fell out of me
and through my tears i realized
that every time i called myself a fool,
an idiot,
a cliché,
i was right.

i fell for the person i wanted you to be,
the pictures i painted in my head.
it was never about you,
it was always about me,
and letting you go was the sweetest taste of freedom
i ever let myself indulge in,
because being free from loving you
meant being free from hating myself.