comfort is cruel

some people confuse care, with control.

some call it comfort when it's really just rot.

this is for anyone who's ever stayed —

not because it felt right, but because it felt familiar.

rot is quiet, it whispers, stay.

bed rotting, bones sinking deep,

breathing in the dust i keep.

mouth full of bitter words,

spit ‘em out, but they still hurt.

self-loathing pessimist,

lazy but hot red lips.

said i’d change, but change is cruel—

i like the comfort it keeps me cool

i keep looking at you to blame

lets me stay, lets me hide.

peeling walls whisper my name,

a home built out of slow decay.

she goes out every two weeks,

powdered nose and no real sleep.

says, this time, i’ll take it slow,

but we all know how that goes.

fast nights, fast hands, fast friends,

then she’s sick again, sick again.

calls him crying, curled in bed,

so he holds her like she’s dead.

you want change, but i don’t want to,

so i just keep talking shit about you.

tell me i’m wasting time,

but i swear this bed is mine.

rot is quiet, rot is kind,

lets me stay, keeps me blind.

two weeks later, same routine,

hits the town, wrecks her body clean.

cigarettes, regret, white lines,

then she wonders why she feels like dying.

she says, he makes me feel so small,

as he picks her up each time she falls.

calls him clingy, calls him weak,

but she loves when he can’t leave.

you want change, but i don’t want to,

so i just keep talking shit about you.

tell me i’m wasting time,

but i swear this bed is mine.

rot is quiet, rot is kind,

lets me stay, keeps me blind.

you hold me up just to watch me sink,

i love you most when i can’t think.

call it love, call it a phase,

but comfort’s easier than change.

he says i should get it together,

but i don’t think he understands.

not everyone’s built for structure,

not everyone works with their hands.

i go out to feel like someone,

to forget the days that feel the same.

but every time i come back hurting,

he just looks at me with shame.

he wants me different, wants me clean,

but i just wanna be me.

i’m not gonna look like this forever,

why’s he so afraid of letting me be?

rot is quiet, rot is kind,

it lets me stay, keeps me blind.

i ask him why he never leaves,

why the world outside don’t call his name.

he says he’s got too much to lose,

but i think he’s just afraid.

he spends his days lost in colors,

while i keep fading into gray.

says i waste myself on nothing,

but at least nothing takes the pain away.

he wants me different, wants me clean,

but i just wanna be me.

i’m not gonna look like this forever,

why’s he so afraid of letting me be?

rot is quiet, rot is kind,

it lets me stay, keeps me blind.

he holds me up, then lets me fall,

then tells me he’s tired of it all.

but if he’s so tired, why’s he here?

why does he always pull me near?

maybe i’m trapped, maybe he’s right,

maybe i don’t know how to fight.

or maybe it’s easier to stay the same,

when comfort’s easier than change.

it's not about fault.

it's about fear.

im over it, but neither of them are.

02/12/2025