give up on me

Give up on me.
No, I don’t mean that in a
self-pitying
“please don’t leave me” way.
I mean it in a
“you’re only hurting
yourself at this point
so please have a little bit of
self-respect
and just stop trying” way.

definitely an apology

“You came to me for help
but you don’t want to be helped
as it’s nice and cosy
in your bubble of self-hate.”

Did I come to you for help?
Or did I come to you for sympathy,
knowing you know exactly
what I am going through?
Did I want you to pop the bubble?
Or did I want you to add
a few extra pillows,
or a blanket or two
to my nest of self-pity?

I know you just want me
to be the best me possible,
and for a while,
I think I wanted that too.
But now, I am content
in my sadness,
content to just plod along
doing stupid and reckless things
all to get attention
because I’m so scared
of being forgotten.

You feel like
you’re wasting your breath
and with every cigarette I smoke,
I have to agree with you.
You can label me as
a failed pet project
and I’ll walk away
to let you recuperate your losses,
if that’s what you want.