you’ve got a funny way of showing how scared you still are.
you stick to me, but it’s not loyalty,
it’s the fear of change.
you still love me not because
I still stir you inside, but because it’s easy.
you’re still standing with your broken heart in hand
because it hurts too much to stitch it back together,
not because I’m still carrying a piece.
you can’t picture yourself being with anyone else
because you refuse to look,
not because it’ll never look right.
try something new not because I don’t love you,
but because I don’t love you enough.