i'm not loving you like i should, not telling you that you make me happy. i'm letting you rub off like dead skin. i'm trying to not remember the things we've done, how ugly they were in retrospect. you all over yourself at parties, dripping from your thighs we pretend its tears but i know differently. i reach my arms out and you shove needles in them. robots dont have sex, they just say love and dont mean it. you are a politician, you write those speeches for me every day. all alone on the highway at night in some pickup truck that smells like grease and play doh, you will tell me that youre falling out of love too, like a dream youve already forgotten but remember in bits and pieces. it wont come back. it's all just open heart surgery with an unexperienced doctor who doesnt know how to sew you up.