What Did You Leave Me With

I sit here and ask myself why I keep doing this, why I keep digging up the hurt, why I still carry the blame Did I let you go, or did you walk first and leave me holding the blame? I keep writing it all down in this old notebook, page after page, like that might sort it out Like maybe if I spell it out clear enough, you’ll come back and read it I leave the book open on purpose, on the table by the lamp hoping you’d see the mess I made and finally understand what you did to me Did you ever mean it when you said my name Did you ever look at me and mean what I thought you meant What did you leave me with? What did you leave me with? I keep turning it over, but it still comes back the same What did you leave me with? What did you leave me with? Nothing but this tired room and a name I can’t shake I keep checking and it’s just this tired, empty place No feelings left. Not the kind you can use anyway. Just the echo of your keys, the slam of the door, and the quiet that followed, a quiet that still screams.