If he tastes like 90s emo grunge, I want a refund

This recklessness scares me
between the random impulsive choices
that breathe fire through my flaking bones
to crying in the shower
so distraught I heave my worries
into the land of forgotten goldfish
and alligator urban legends
unsure of exactly what I’m scared of
 
I don’t know who I am anymore
chasing cloud figures in the sky
waiting for a man on a boat  
that always stands me up
like other Sirens have sweeter songs
and against the oceans pull  
I can’t complete
 
I am not love  
I am discord and dead dreams
waiting to be heard if only someone
was listening ...
 
He listens like a best friend  
he listens like a lover
he listens like the ghost of the girl
in my bathroom  
who I left behind  
so many years ago
but at least he listens
 
I'm choking on myself
on the things I claim to love
and everything I pretend not to hate
 
Would you still love me
if I told you I don’t want this anymore?
 
I have seen your disappointment
and I can still hear the breaking
of unwashed dishes in the sink  
telling me I am out of time
out of luck
out of chances
 
I am never good enough
until I am good enough
but I don’t want to sign on the dotted line
that makes this worth more  
than a 10-year-old pinky swear  
tomorrow you'll forget all your promises  
and I will breathe my own meaningless breath  
in despair that I failed to make you love me
 
Because what I wanted  
never mattered anyway
 
And I have nothing left  
but broken dreams  
and no one to hold me  
while I cry myself to sleep at night
 
© Indie Adams 2016