It's a selfish pain that pulls my smile a little smaller, dims its brightness
It's a sinful twist in my stomach when I fake my concerned tone of voice
It's a dark hate seeping into my unconscious, painting patronising phrases
which slide off my tongue like venom seeking to poison.

Don't be another him.
Not when you want something from me,
a part of me.

You pull my head and heart to breaking point
and don't even seem to know
you stomp about in your tantrums
on an aching me

You climb over me
to a point I have to tiptoe on the ledge
of a 200-metre skyscraper
to reach out to you

You wear dark shades when the sun is down
and say you don't see the grey
and look past the puddles
of the last bits of me I've tried to squeeze out for you

You'll have me killing myself and you won't even know it.