night-of-the-creeps

If you showed up on my doorstep,
Like I know you won’t,
I wouldn’t care to tell you what you’ve done to me.
I wouldn’t drone on about the sleepless nights when my old habits would creep into my mind because they knew they could conquer me if I was left alone.
I tried to be strong for you, but you weren’t here to share in my victories.
So I let them devour me.
Kind of like you did.

If you called me at midnight,
Like I know you won’t,
I wouldn’t roll back over and fall asleep.
I wouldn’t become as cold-hearted as you were when you decided you were done with me.
You never apologized for hanging up, or for missing five calls in a row.
Just like you never apologized for choosing her instead.
I meant it when I said I forgave you though.
I know you’re still not sorry.

If I bumped into you on accident,
Like I know I won’t,
I wouldn’t brag about the bodies I’ve had on mine since you left.
I wouldn’t lie and say that they felt more like home than you ever did.
They lie next to me, but I feel nothing.
They can’t force you out of my mind.
Though they try with all their might.
And so do I.

If you ever asked me about this,
Like I know you won’t,
I wouldn’t waste my words on lies to get revenge.
I wouldn’t tell you what a mess you turned me into.
I would tell you the past doesn’t matter with you.
That I’d been waiting here since you left.
Forever waiting for you to come back.
But I know you won’t.

-Shelby Rotenberry