I built this life for you to keep,
only to bury it three feet deep.
I'm a superhero without powers
left to stare at empty hands.
I've never been a friend to you.

Did this start to fall apart
with lies and shallow promises?
When did this start to feel so dull?

Both in your room the other night,
instead of giving in, we fight.
I'm smoking on your windowsill,
blowing smoke into the rain.
It's raining flames inside your room.

I didn't want to say this,
so I left a note.