I needed you. You don’t remember. I was sick and twisted on the floor, crying into my carpet.
Like a broken figurine, something you’d kept on your shelf, until I got dirty and chipped and you found a replacement. So easy it was.
Don’t tell me I don’t remember and don’t tell me my story is wrong. I needed you like the fucking sun, I told you that from the moment I saw you.
We danced around in my garage, you told me that life would be unimaginable without me. You sipped your whiskey and called it love.
But morning came and you shrugged it off, made me feel like a mistake. A burden. I was treading water in a shark infested sea as you left with last life boat, and you never came back.
You were my sun.
But what I’ve learned is that although the air can get so cold,
the sun will always burn if you get close enough to touch it.