Blurry

I don’t know who you think I am,

considering I share her curls.

If assuming I gave a damn

fuels your ego to fuck other girls

then do whatever you have to do.

Tan brunettes or thin white lines,

I’m not available to guide you

or read through your chronic lies.

It’s all blurry, your vision

when you look at me and say her name.

Maybe our souls and their collision

wasn’t intentional, still you claim.

You just needed something quick,

so instead of talking to me,

you gummed it with a lick

and told me you were clean.

You’d get angry, the nights are blurry.

You randomly grabbed me to show me you would.

You drive to my place, your words got slurry,

you fucked her simply because you could.

The words in my poems got blunt,

the gentle ones were spent on you.

I went from something you’d praise to taunt,

choosing a thinner line over me, too.

Is it a crime or a curse,

how much I love you, how much you love crack

how you’re running to a hearse,

how long I still wanted you back.

The lines are blurry, the ones you’d do.

Your hands are shakey, you haven’t slept.

The lines are blurry, between us two.

If I’m a secret, I’m ill-kept.

The line is blurry, I tried it too

hoping I’d see what you left me to do.

It’s blurry, my vision trying to see who you were.

I see a version of me when I was younger.

You beg for closure, I beg you to be sober,

as you see another girl, I see my mother.

We see someone else in each other.

you ask me for sex, I ask you not to do another.

I remember in hindsight, but it all turns blurry.