In the Summer



You lay in bed beside me,
But yet I feel alone.
Bombarded by insecurities,
Reliving what is known.

You tell me that you love me,
Lip service is all you give.
I’ve bent more than over backwards,
I’m unhappy even still.

I only want for someone to love me,
The way I feel for them.
Not walked on like a doormat,
Always pleasing, growing ill.

I know I can be demanding,
Set in my own compulsive ways.
Conforming isn’t easy,
Questioning whether or not to stay.

This isn’t what I wanted,
Tied together with no ring.
I blindly leapt without thinking,
Holding the bag forever, still.

Don’t tell me that you love me,
And show me otherwise.
I am the sugar mama,
Debt continues mounting high.

You laid on the charm so heavy,
In the beginning of the day.
But by night-time I was begging,
Telling you to stay.

Have we both decided to settle?
Afraid of the unknown.
Temporarily finding comfort,
The long run not quite earned.

I hurt with deep compassion,
Remorse for what is lost.
Our summer of alternate reality,
Now crashing against the rocks.

I have no child nor husband,
And yet it seems I do.
This isn’t what I wanted,
And clearly neither do you.

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Waves in Diabat courtesy of Stacy Herbert from