Detour

The Tide

People come and they go like the tide. Into my life, and out. Breathe in, breathe out. Hello, goodbye.

You came back.

But it was just to twist the knife.

I tried, I really did. In general I've been working towards being friendlier in hopes that people go less. And so when you reappeared in my inbox I decided why be mean when I could go with the flow. The flow only comes in to go. I betrayed myself thinking the tide could ever change.

But the water level is rising and I'm getting uncomfortable. You got too close, and then hit me hard. Laughed in my face, shouted from the mountain tops that I would never hurt you again.

I know why you're back.

You want to see me hurt. As if you didn't hurt me enough the first time you pulled back into the sea, you're back for more leaving. Showing me your girlfriend and your dates, then lying to my face that you're going to bed when you're bored of me even though you just told me you woke up from a nap.

Come and go.

Stab, twist, retreat.

But I'm being nice now. How do I say you're being toxic now when I was always the toxic one before. Should I take my punishment, my karma. I don't know how to be good, but now I don't know how to be bad.

If I was dead I wouldn't have to deal with this.

But it wouldn't get to you, it'd be a waste of my time to die. I tell you I'm depressed and yawn better go back to sleep because I'm boring you even if you just woke up. Who cares. The tide always goes out, it shouldn't shock anyone. It shouldn't hurt. I know the drill.

But you're back.

You should have stayed gone: stab, twist, repeat.

Kill me faster next time. Either come in like a hurricane or dry up until every living thing is dead in a desert. No more of this wishy-washy as convenient come and go. To and fro. Kill me slow.