Uncomfortable
I had to ask for your affection.
The first indication that you weren’t worthy of mine.
Love is meant to be easy.
At least, when it’s with the correct person.
Loving you was shifting teeth,
Picking at hangnails,
An off-kilter set to the jaw.
Loving you was uncomfortable.
Not unpleasant, but something deep within me knew it wasn’t right.
We were building a world on an unsteady foundation.
Forming skyscrapers on decaying bedrock.
They were decadent.
But fated to collapse.
Quite the parallel to their builders.
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