We built us up like Jenga
I built us up like Jenga, stacking the parts of you within the parts of me,
Building a tower, tall, inspiring.
The us we build together you pushed over in the span of three hours of tears on a wooden bedroom floor
That us is scattered pieces next to your bed
The us I built is barely standing, some parts of you I stacked are still there,
Others are pushed out, leaving aching bullet holes behind
My swaying tower, teetering on the edge of collapse, knows that one day
One day I'll be stable again
Someone might patch the holes with their pieces
