Bitch with Glamor

I stood there — words stuck, glitch in my throat. He looked up, like “Go ahead” — but I choked. Said: "Wow… I got no words. Wanna smoke?" We stood outside, me talkin’ — him just cold. Not even that loud, just breathin’, bold. I said I’d cook, I’ll iron, I’ll fix it all. As if chores can heal what I let fall. Told him: “I fucked up again, give me that pill. Later we talk — say how you feel.” Not just ‘bout me, but about you. When did we stop smiling too? He shrugged — gave me the dose. And I thanked him like a ghost. I hate I had to thank him For giving me back a part of me That I wasn’t supposed to lose Just to keep this peace. --- Back when I was broke, I was good enough for you. Now I work — you still act like I’m the issue. I’m your clown, not your queen — barely your muse. Once your spark — now I’m just your excuse. Your smile, your warmth — vanished like mist. No comfort, just critique — like I don’t exist. No matter what I do, it ain’t ever enough. I don’t follow the line — I just f**k it up. I gave up the weed — yeah, I quit that for you. Now I pop pills like I’m following rules. Weed gave me joy, the pills make me calm. But deep inside, I lost my charm. I tremble when I’m sober — feel it in my skin. Thinkin’ ‘bout you, while the chaos begins. I swallow it all, drag it down to my core. I’m a rental ride — no map, no score. --- Night shift ends, I drag myself home. You’re sleepin’, gaming — you in your zone. “It’s the weekend,” you say, like it means a thing. But my clock never stops, I still do everything.