Poems for the Sad and Weary

Habit

I got into the habit
Of talking to you everyday
So now, there is the matter of
Getting into one of not. They say

It takes 21 days
To form a habit.
That's a lie. It's 66
And that makes no difference, not one bit

Because all I need is a slice
Of your heart and there I go,
Whizzing down the path
Of inevitable fire - the abyss, the hole

That can never be covered.
How am I supposed to form this new
Habit, when it's actually a good one?
I am not made for kneeling at the pew.

So you came in here
And changed up my entire life
And now you're gone,
And okay, it's my fault so I have to lie

About being completely fine;
That I'm okay, I'm alright.
I understand. I do. I try.
And logic agrees but at night

I return to being human
And habits are hard to break.
Habits stay forever (you know this)
So all I can do is be a little fake

And lie because pride is all I have
To hold onto. Pride is another habit
I have grown used to -
One of the better ones, at least.

I got into the habit of you.
Now I have to learn to undo the knots.
And how unfair it is, for you to be perfectly fine
When I'm perfectly not.