The L Word

If I were to leave you, the leaves on my branches would turn green as the sun has finally given me the light I needed.

To tell you, “I don’t belong here” and receive a response of praise – you make my eyes quake in silence as I imagine shoving a spade in your posterior.

If I were to leave you, my wallet will feel lighter. I won’t like it but I definitely won’t regret it.

To listen to our useless banter whether to stay, my pillared principals want to crack open and kill you, twice.

If I were to leave all I made and stick on what I prayed, it will make me a happy person.

Whilst you go on with your money boy beats – I’ve turned only to give you my middle finger and with a little nail polish on it just for kicks.

To leave you has costed me the following – another month on a sofa, a wrinkle and my last straw.

To wrong me, as a Christian, I forgive but as a Patrician, I will move forward and cater you dead bones for dinner.

To flesh my thoughts with plagues of trashy promises, I will leave you your life – a useless one at that.

To cancel my ethics with yours – it is equivalent to the Queen prancing for prostitution.

To make me come this far the line, in loaded words to shoot you…

You’ve left me the choices only but to leave you, leave you, leave you.

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