July

The middle of July, I cannot feel a thing.
Heat in my lungs, I love suffocating.
Start to get used to how it has to be.
But I know if I go, I'll never be clean.

And even though I know exactly what you're doing,
I'm the perma moon,
It only looks like I'm moving.
And you're never insecure
when you can keep me in your orbit.
I'm yours, and I'm worse off for it.

Just like that night when I drove to your house, 
you're just one more thing I will never live down.
I am unfaithful, I have my doubts.
You are a stranger, don't know you now.

The middle of the night when I should be sleeping,
I'm wide awake, can't take the way things have been.
Pain in my chest, you had sex while I grieved.
Don't expect you to be true like we both said we'd be.

But you've had your way now;
nothing to figure out.
Didn't have to miss me,
but do you a little now?

Cherry on top, you get to watch me go crazy.
Does it make you feel good?
Am I such a sure thing?
Or is it maybe worse?
Are you entirely indifferent?
I'm yours, but not sure of it.