Foolish Woman

I’m a foolish woman, who likes her tomorrows promised.

Naturally I fell for you and the promises of what could have been.

I crave you on more nights than not,

in ways too difficult for words.

I crave for you to one day find home in me,

Just as much as I crave to be free.

Both craving an intimacy our egos refuse to make room for.

We grew accustomed to abandoning the forevers we placed,

in each other,

we found a tainted permanence.

The ability to come and go as we please.

Meanwhile holding on to the illusion of a love,

undeserving of our shallow hearts.

In this game of tug of war,

I've often been left broken and bruised.

When I thought you’d heal my open wounds:

I was greeted with salt on your fingertips,

and the taste of razorblades on your lips.