I Told My Therapist

you know, i told my therapist

about that time when we first kissed

you aimed for cheek and claimed to miss

she wonders why i think of this

she calls this a manic state

it isn't healthy to fixate

on broken love you grew to hate

she suggests i clean my slate

but i prefer to be obsessed

i know she thinks i'm such a mess

and i confess, i like me less

the me with you was at my best

so tell me, how'd we fall apart?

you know, i've made an awful art

of giving fragments of my heart

to stupid boys--where do i start

to let go of what i know

and give myself the space to grow

it was my own choice to go

so what's with this stupid fomo?

what am i afraid to miss

i cannot go on like this

i blame you and your stupid kiss

now i'm all fucked up

it's all your fault

i'm broken now

quit adding salt

to wounds when i'm down

so bad, i'm glad

to see you

how did you fuck me up

this much?

pay her

to tell me i'm insane

i'm hurt

you're my burden and pain

she blames

your inane mind games

oh, it's such a shame

but i blame myself

for this hell

i'm past help

i know

and she knows

what i chose

oh, the pain it only grows