Snake Oil on the Lips of a Charmer
It started with the baby. Maybe it started with a promise you didn't want up stand up with me on. I'll never know for sure, but I know the broken promises started with the baby. A promise to keep but solutions to benefit only you. Never any talk about medical assistance, alternative options, or even a second opinion on burning that bridge.
It happened again with the rental business and now I see it with moving. I saw it on my writing. You never even took the time to read about my experiences. I'm not what interests you.
You're not my champion. You have a set plan and some how you've got your grip on me and won't let me free. Snake oil on the lips of a charmer.
It's been three years and my light is gone. I'm not sure that's even an ember left to ignite anything that stuck around. Silver linings and bright sides are a thing of the past. I'm surrounded in a black cloak and I don't have the strength to take it off. Not yet.
I miss my 20s for the pure fact life and love was a endless horizon. Full of choices. Now I am tired and choice after choice has brought me here. Bruised and guarded.
How did we get here, again? You played daddy to a family you didn't know while you were supposed to be camping with me. I feel more of an obligation than a choice. It doesn't matter you say, your right. It doesn't matter, ever. It doesn't matter that you show kindness to others, or that you need to be the king of everyone else's world. I need you to focus here, at home, in me. You're there but not with me. No more longing, no more infatuation, no more surprises. Just routine complacency.
I'll know after Kentucky.
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