i could have gone anywhere but i stayed here for you

november was a blur.
i was sad and lost
and you made it so.
i slept in my own tail
and you slept alone
sleep-talking to her-
i wish i could remember
what made me this frail.
leaking out of my lungs.
then i wanted you to go.

in december, you were smoking.
i was sad and lost
when you stopped joking.
i woke up in your second-hand
and you slept alone.
so i talked to him
while i was awake.
i wish i could remember
what destroyed our home
and why i wanted you to go.

january iced over.
i found myself
and begged you not to be lost.
now we both sleep alone.
maybe you still sleep- talk her,
and maybe i still care. so?
i wish i could remember myself.
when i said "go",
you made it so.

blurring. smoking. ending.
i'm still chasing you.
and you say i don't like to travel.