Don't Hurt Yourself

Apologies are in order

I've treated my heart like fodder

Kicked and spat in its general direction

And in doing so grew farther from love

You know what hurt the most?

That I knew exactly where to place my feet, the precise location in which my walls were weak

The sinister, calculated act of poisoning my tea

How vile, how bittersweet 

And here, perhaps was a bit of comedy... 

When I slipped, 

knocked off of a cliff

Held on only by the grip of my wrist 

and screamed for help

The only one around for miles

Was myself.