Nurture

Stab me in the heart and try to kiss me 

You've got a strange way of dumping someone

I don't nurture you enough

So let me pull this knife out so I can drown in my own blood 

And be on my way

One minute I'm talking about sharing a hotel in Paris

And the next I'm being told it's over

I'm probably supposed to fight

But I'm too tired, I'm too old.

Lots of men can say all the right things and don't do shit.

I may not say much but I do all the right things.

I show up. I bring flowers. I pick up the check.

I call and I text. You never do those things first. 

I go away and call and you don't return it. 

Think I don't notice? 

Think that doesn't make me put my walls up even more?

And yet I'm the one not nurturing.

Your idea of meaningful conversations seem to involve tearing me to shreds.

I listen to you and I tried to protect you from the blackness of my soul

You think you want to go there but you don't. 

My black clouds have chased away more women than I can count

Breakup with me at the bar and want to hold my hand when we're back out on the street.

Not sure I get that but I don't have to play it anymore

I can live with not being enough. I was never going to be enough.

And maybe no one will be.