Uneaten plate.

I dissociate
And think about dying
Without any control,
S’pose there’s no use in denying
Theres a hole in my soul.
I say I’m happy, but I’m lying
(And digging deeper holes)
Cause I still hear him sighing-
As if I stole
His happiest days,
Even though all he does is scroll
And give other girls praise;
It’s me, I robbed him of
His, “hoe phase.”
But he made me
Hate this whole place-
With every maybe,
And every uneaten plate
Every unsuccessful baby,
And every night he came home late.
Maybe we made each other crazy
As we tried to force fate;
But real love cannot be lazy,
At any given rate.