You say I’m a mess.
Maybe you’re right.
But you are too.
You can claw at me, pick me to pieces
Throw dirt in my face, bruise me with your words
Do what you have to in order to share the pain you are feeling
You take out your anger and bitterness on me
Blame me for what happened
Go ahead, despise me
Shut me out, never speak my name again
Act as if I never existed
If that makes you feel better
If that distracts you from your own truth
If that helps you forget that I left for a reason that included you
If that helps you to not have any blame to share
If that keeps the focus off of you
Then go ahead
Call me a mess
But at least I’m doing something about my mess and I own up to it
What are you doing about it besides blaming me?