Difficult

You left me when you needed me least

and every single emotion and idea is derived from that befall

how does this happen?

Obsessive compulsive dysfunction

press repeat, replay, stay

in those moments forever

because their dead remnants shine brighter

than anything that these people do not have the want 

to so much as attempt to conjure up

the shards of my broken mirror mistakes

make me feel alive in murky surface reactions with no reflection

our salty exchanges

and I am bleeding fucking everywhere

I call you perfect

you call me difficult

"I would rather never talk again than continue to pretend that this never ends"