I Am What’s Best for You
It's been days since I've slept
and instead of counting sheep
I've been counting the days since you slammed the door shut.
There's a table in our dining room
full of apology letters and dead flowers.
The letters are full of things like "I forgot to tell you"
and kisses imprinted with your favorite lipstick.
I spent most nights tracing the outline of your face
with your head against my chest
and now I'm just tracing the skin of every place you used to touch.
I found love in the crevasses of your neck
when my lips were pressed up against it
and I thought you'd be a little bit more sincere
when the time came to close the door.
I remember you laying against me one night,
we were both fading into the silence of four corners
and even the sound of the water crashing against the rocks
couldn't block out the sound of the voices in our heads
trying to convince us
that there wasn't anything here worth fighting for.
Eventually the water stopped crashing
and so did our lips
and I spent nights lying in bed by myself
trying to comprehend the way you left
until I finally came to the conclusion that
you can't force someone to realize
that you are what's best for them.