....

puddles of blue-dom, I smash my feet in
and stomped down hard. I hope you see the failures of my
last relationship with myself,  in the reflection of the dirty water
(brown the same color as me)
all the missed meetings, the mindless sex, the diseases, death the lies and embarrassments
so the other half of me, the one
that cares still
(still breathes normal breaths) does not have to try and convince you to love me
or treat me any better. All of that trying, all of that convincing,
it gets boring and makes me doubt myself and your intentions
making both of our arms ache from the outstretches.