Idiots

Idiots

Oh, what have I done?
What have I become?
Hurting you on purpose, retaliation
For an imagined slight,
A return strike that was unprovoked,
Where is my trust?
Dashed with my hopes
The hope that I thought you'd crushed
I'm an idiot
I'm insecure
I never felt this all-consumed way before
And now I'm just waiting for it all to fall apart
Helping it along with my stupid false-starts
Afraid to let go and just revel in the moment
Afraid that if I do so I will no longer own it
I'm an idiot
This is new to me
Why hasn't someone written an instruction manual for me?
Because everyone is different, I suppose
I wonder who knows all the answers
To the questions that love can pose,
Maybe no-one does
Maybe we all just muddle along
Maybe that's why we can find life on mars
And yet fail so dramatically to stay together in relationships
Maybe this is the reason we turn to religion
Maybe this is the cause of wars
Maybe we're just struggling, like I am here
Lost in analysis
Of something that is, in reality, the simplest thing in the world
What have we done?
What have we become?
We over-complicate, hesitate, dramatise, desecrate
But never let go.