Making room for someone else

I check myself and found out,
I was writing a lot about you,
So I asked myself why,
And I found out my reasons.

I spent a lot of time with you,
Full of anger and sadness,
Sometimes with void I can’t explain,
And my lack of will to live.

I didn’t like what we were,
And you didn’t want to let go,
Because I was your beacon and driftwood,
And you didn’t want to drown.

And I noticed one time,
You can live on your own,
With no need for my support,
But you still wouldn’t let go.

I was useful and beneficial,
With my resources and company,
I was a trophy and a mannequin,
Just for you to show off.

Then I thought again,
I never wrote happy things,
When I thought about you,
Because I wasn’t happy at all.

And I only wrote happy things,
When I look at the future,
Places you wouldn’t be in,
And times you wouldn’t be around.

And now that I’ve left you,
I will exhaust all this angst,
My anger against you,
Then I’ll be writing about someone else.