Breaking Up

We make up,
just to break up,
maybe I'm fucked up,
but at least I'm better than these fake fucks,
for real though,
I never held back what I felt,
and neither did you,
but I can't let my heart melt,
from the flames you threw, I'm through,
your crying outside,
I'm dying inside,
but that's what happens when two souls collide,
first it burns bright,
then slowly the stars die,
and I try to explain all of this,
over a text message on my phone,
in this fancy hotel alone,
but this fancy hotel alone,
is no substitute for a home,
and so I'm texting you tonight,
no amount of wrongs make a right,
right?
So why do we put ourselves through this cycle,
maybe because I'm crazy and you're psycho,
I don't know,
all I know,
is it'll only get better,
and a little loneliness is a small price to pay for freedom,
so really, it's like, whatever...

by Adam Amor; author of '300 Girls: A True Love Story'; available on Kindle & Amazon